


Hardships and Happiness.

by RussianSunflower3



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: ABO terminology, Alpha!Oikawa, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Fighting, Found Family, Hospital, M/M, Major Character Injury, Oikawa's very naughty imagination, Omega!Iwaizumi, Panic Attacks, Presentation, Self-Harm, chapters get longer, lots of personal headcanons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2017-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-23 13:07:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 55,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8329057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RussianSunflower3/pseuds/RussianSunflower3
Summary: Alpha, Beta, Omega... What does it really matter? They'll all just humans living life with a secondary gender. No big deal, right?No need to be upset if someone isn't what they've been conditioned to be, right?It's not a bad thing to have something unexpected happen... Right?
All his life, Iwaizumi has been told he'll be an Alpha, expected to be an Alpha. His parents were so adamant, they even signed him out of classes learning about Omega functions.He's about to wish he'd attended them anyways.





	1. A late presentation.

Iwaizumi had not been surprised when Oikawa had presented before him. After all, there was only a month, roughly, between their birthdays. It was just a matter of coincidence that Oikawa presented before him. Although, he wasn’t taken aback in the slightest that Oikawa was an Alpha.

He’d been a little surprised when both Matsukawa and Hanamaki had presented before him. He put it down to the fact that Beta’s often presented earlier than other dynamics. It just meant that he himself would most likely be an Alpha. It was expected of him, after all.

Iwaizumi hadn’t even been surprised when Watari presented before him. He was a Beta too, so an early presentation was explainable. Right...? On that day, an unsettling feeling of worry had nestled its way into the back of Iwaizumi’s mind. 

It was when, in practice one day, Yahaba had suddenly and unexpectedly presented, that Iwaizumi had started to fret. The newly-presented Omega had been picked up and taken home by his parents, and this time, Iwaizumi couldn’t put things down to reason. Omegas usually presented last in their age group, so if Yahaba had presented before him, then there was no way he would present. Not at this late a stage. It never occurred to him that the same reason Yahaba presented last in his age group, was the same reason Iwaizumi had shown no signs of a dynamic.

It had only been three days since their second year setter had gone into presentation heat. As Iwaizumi jumped to spike a perfectly set ball, he felt a stab of pain through his abdomen. The spike veered off to the side, landing outside the court as Iwaizumi’s feet hit the ground and he bit into his lips to stop the sharp yelp of pain escaping. The impact with the floor made it feel like his entire insides had been liquefied and then abruptly shaken. A low grunt escaped him instead.

“Iwa-chan! How dare you waste such a perfect set!” Oikawa’s teasing tone was the last thing Iwaizumi wanted to hear when he was trying to focus on making this strange feeling ebb away. The resulting glare he sent to his best friend had Oikawa visibly retreat. From the other side of the net, practicing blocking, Hanamaki and Matsukawa shared a concerned look.

“Iwaizumi, you feeling okay?” 

“Fine. Just fucking fine!” The low growl that accompanied his words lacked its usual viciousness. It sounded more defensive than anything else. Hanamaki stood ramrod straight and marched over from his position to grab Iwaizumi by the arm and drag him off the court, whilst Matsukawa moved to intercept Oikawa. 

“Hey! What gives?! Makki, let me go-!” He cut himself off from delivering a threat when he realised the look the Beta was giving him was more serious than he’d ever seen before.

“Call your mother and ask her to pick you up. You need to go home, Iwaizumi.” He blinked, looking uncharacteristically innocent and confused.

“What? No, it’s just- Just a muscle or something. I’ll stretch properly next time.”

“Iwaizumi. Please, listen to me. Go home.” Desperation leaked into Hanamaki’s voice and Iwaizumi wasn’t sure why it made him feel guilty. With a deep scowl, he pulled his phone from his pocket and typed out a text, displaying the screen to Hanamaki as he hit the send button. No doubt, his mother would question an unexpected text, but Iwaizumi rarely asked to be picked up and she would usually turn up when he asked. Hanamaki gave a sigh of relief, releasing his tense grip on Iwaizumi’s shoulder. One of Iwaizumi’s eyebrows curved up in an annoyed curiosity. 

“Are you going to tell me why this was so urgent, now?” For a moment, the only sounds was that of the volleyball practice occurring in the background, whilst Hanamaki internally debated telling Iwaizumi.

“Because you’re- Iwaizumi!!!” The Ace had doubled over in pain, arms wrapped around his lower waist and a strangled cry escaping his throat. The stabbing pain from earlier had returned tenfold in an instance, the sensation familiar to a demon trying to brutally claw its way out from his abdomen. The agony was sharp and intense, yet also lingering and repetitive. Iwaizumi’s legs gave way beneath him. He would have hit the ground with a jarring jolt if Hanamaki hadn’t been there, sliding his arms around Iwaizumi’s torso and holding him up. He could hear the Beta murmuring to him comfortingly – Despite being annoying as hell, Hanamaki and Matsukawa were his best and closest friends other than Oikawa – but the ferocious burning was all he was able to fixate on, feeling fire spreading through his veins, boiling his blood and burning his skin. He whimpered, pressing his face into Hanamaki’s cool shirt. The scent, which suddenly seemed so much more vivid, was soft and familiar, like fresh washed cotton with an under scent of Nutella. He almost expected it, with how much Hanamaki ate the stuff. But then he realised the fragrance wasn’t coming from clothing, or spilt food, or even breath. It was coming straight from Hanamaki’s skin, through pores and sweat glands. It was his scent as a Beta, so much clearer than ever before. He physically winced when Hanamaki suddenly shouted.

“Oikawa, no! He’s presenting! Don’t come any closer!” The coherent thought was one of the last Iwaizumi had.

_‘Presenting? This late? Oh shit, then I must be...’_

He promptly blacked out, the excruciating agony from his apparent late presentation too much for even the ace of Aobajousai to handle. Matsukawa had grabbed Oikawa before he’d gotten within range of Iwaizumi’s leaking scent, ignoring the Alpha’s wild growl as he dragged him back. 

“He’s my best friend! I have to check he’s okay!” Matsukawa tightened his grip around Oikawa’s wrist.

“He’s going into heat! You’re an Alpha, Tooru. If you go over there...” Brown eyes widened in realisation.

“His scent will put me in a rut...”

“And you’ll probably do something you’d regret.” Oikawa grit his teeth together, snarling to himself in frustration before he whipped around on his heel and stormed over to the basket of volleyballs. He was going to hit serves until his palm was red-raw and his knee gave in. Matsukawa felt tension drop from his shoulders as Oikawa walked away from Iwaizumi. He’d deal with Oikawa’s irritation and self-punishing fury later. For now, he turned to Hanamaki. A thumbs up was sent his way and he came over to kneel by his side.

“We dealt with that pretty well.”

“Considering how unexpected it is, yeah. I mean, Iwaizumi? An Omega? It’s just-...”

“Incomprehensible?”

“Yeah, that word.” The Beta pair spared a moment to smirk at each other, plotting instantly. Hanamaki spoke first, sharing their thoughts loud enough for Kunimi, who had crept closer in concern, to overhear. The first year hadn’t presented yet, so it was safe to assume he’d be neutral around the suffering Ace. 

“So you think Oikawa’s going to make a move first, or is Iwaizumi going to have to tempt him?”

“As amusing as the latter would be, I predict Oikawa will claim him upon their first meeting~.” Kunimi rolled his eyes, applying a damp cloth to Iwaizumi’s forehead.

“Iwaizumi-Senpai won’t give in so easily. He might be an Omega now, but he’s still, well, Iwaizumi-Senpai.” The third year duo shared a look. Kunimi was right. Matsukawa ran a hand through his curly hair in distress as he glanced back over to where Oikawa was snapping at Kindaichi for not jumping to full potential.

“Man, Oikawa is going to be intolerable for the next however-long-it-takes-them-to-bond.”


	2. Omega.

A groan. A shuffle. A belated sob into sweat-soaked, stinky blankets. Iwaizumi lifted his head, hoping that he didn’t look as terrible as he felt. The stabbing pain had disappeared, and in its place, a dull aching that betrayed exactly what he’d just been through. He didn’t remember much, just random moments where he regained conscious thought to realise he was so desperate, so wanton, needed an Alpha so badly, couldn’t get rid of this _damn heat_ -

A blush enveloped him from the tips of his ears to below his neck and he gave an elongated groan of embarrassment, burying his face in his own soiled bed sheets. He was sticky, he was sweaty, he smelt terribly, and he could finally think straight.

“Omega... I’m an Omega...” He clenched his fist and drove it into his pillow. His teeth were gritted as tight as they could, painfully so, his nose scrunched up in disgust, and his eyes alight with fury at himself. He was supposed to be an _Alpha_! How could he be an Ace if he was an Omega?! Iwaizumi squeezed out a few tears with his curse words, trying to force the disappointment he felt within himself into pure anger. 

Anger was easy to get rid of. Self-depreciation was not. He breathed heavily, Omegan growl broken by heavy huffs that would have been sobs if he gave in to the kicked stomach feeling. Shaking saltwater out of his eyes he noticed suspicious white stains all over his sheets and threw himself from his bed with a sound of pure repulsion. 

“Gross...” He looked over his own body, sickened to find it in the same condition, if not worse. His right hand was the most disgusting, and Iwaizumi knew where that had been the last few days. Iwaizumi made sure to put his anger into stomping towards the shower, aggressively turning it on and scrubbing himself down until parts of his skin bled. He slipped on a bar of soap, pleased that he only gasped when he impacted the floor butt-first. Not only did the jarring land cause pain to his coccyx, but it agitated his already sore behind. For obvious reasons.

“Fffff-.” He held back any swearing, just in case it echoed in the bathroom and his parents were home. He’d learnt not to curse around them after that one time he’d been grounded for a week. Iwaizumi’s legs shook as he dried himself off, none too gentle. He wrapped the towel around his waist as he returned to his bedroom to choose some clothes, scrunching his nose up at the lingering scent of a first heat. He decided to open the window to filter the smell out, before noticing the new object sitting on the windowsill. There was a note with it. Carefully, he picked up the note and unfolded it, his scowl deepening when he discovered who had left it. Or more specifically, who had seen him like this. The scowl lessened as he read on.

_’If you open your window, the smell will draw in unwanted Alphas. Yes, we knew you’d do this. Spray this air freshener instead, it’s specifically made for Omegan heats. As a side note, Makki wants your training schedule, because damn son, you got nice muscles all over. His words, not mine. We’ll see you when you feel better. – Mattsun & Makki. (Why is your name first?) (Because I wrote it.) (I complimented him!) ( You were being a perv.)’_ It was followed with crude little scribbles, the Beta duo probably having competed to see who could draw them most realistic dick. 

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, huffing in amusement despite himself. Taking their advice, he shook the air freshener and sprayed it generously around his room. He only used half the can, much less than what he actually wanted to use. Breathing in, he was pleasantly astonished to find the room absolutely neutral. Bland, with no smell whatsoever. It gave his nose a break and he couldn’t help almost sagging in relief.

“May good luck fall upon their paths today...” Iwaizumi pulled some clothes on quickly. He’d already decided he wasn’t going to go to school. If he was getting time off because he presented, he was going to make the most of it. He’d have to study hard to catch up with the rest of the class. Before he could pick up his school bag to look through it for text books, he felt another bolt of pain. His eyes widened.

_‘These things don’t happen in waves, do they?!’_ He scrambled for his phone, until he was interrupted from his panic by an almighty growl that didn’t originate from another person. Iwaizumi cursed himself for his stupidity as he identified it as his stomach. Of **course** he’d be starving. He hadn’t eaten anything in a week, thanks to his _stupid_ heat, presenting as a _stupid_ Omega. His fist clenched and he kicked the leg of his study desk before storming downstairs. He was pleased to find it was quiet and empty. His parents must already be out at work. 

Opening the fridge, Iwaizumi was suddenly assaulted by a bombardment of strong smells, all weaving together into a gross stench that knocked the wind out of his lungs. He broke into coughs, slamming the fridge door shut and fighting for breath as the disgusting odour filtered away. He groaned, pressing his forehead against the refrigerator door. He was suddenly hit the memories of Dynamic Information Lessons from middle school.

_“Whilst a Beta will only be more sensitive to the scent of other dynamics, Alpha’s and Omega’s will experience stronger reaction to aroma in everyday life. This is especially true of an Omega after a heat. Newly presented Omega’s should avoid anything that gives off a strong smell for at least 24 hours after their heat.”_

He knocked his head against the fridge a couple more times. The demon in his stomach clawed ever more intense, and he desperately craved food, but he couldn’t even open the **fridge** because he was a _stupid OMEGA!_ The frustration made him growl and he headbutted the fridge enough to leave a small dent. Glaring at the testament to his strength, he questioned why he hadn’t turned out to be an Alpha. _Everything_ indicated he would have been an Alpha!

Iwaizumi had prepared to be an Alpha, but here was life, screwing him over. To avoid the saltwater that would surely follow the sting in his eyes, Iwaizumi inhaled deeply.

His eyes widened as he detected a faint smell of bread. He could smell that it was three days old, and had been wrapped in plastic rather than homemade, but it made his stomach pang in desperation anyways. Bread didn’t have too strong of a fragrance, and that which he could detect was fairly pleasant. He followed the scent trail as easily as one would follow flashing signs and a parade, towards a carrier bag in the hallway. The groceries were just left there... 

It didn’t enter Iwaizumi’s mind that he maybe wasn’t home alone until he had already devoured the entire contents of the bag. The bread had been delicious, so he’d left it until last. There had also been potatoes, daikon, and a tomato that he’d eaten raw. An entire block of Tofu had joined them in his stomach, as well as cornstarch poured directly from the bag. He felt guilty as he tore through the ingredients, but he was ravenous. It only occurred to him as he sat there with a shredded plastic bag and empty hands that someone had brought them over. Someone had put those ingredients in the hallway, gone off to do something, and would come back to find it all gone. 

He wasn’t alone in the house.

“H- Hello?” His mother should be at work. An Alpha who worked in a high-ranking business company, she was rarely home in the daylight hours. His father, also an Alpha, travelled the country as a doctor, attending to those in need, wherever they were. For that reason, Iwaizumi barely saw him at all. He knew that his _Alpha_ parents had expected an _Alpha_ child. He was not an Alpha. Iwaizumi suddenly wished he hadn’t eaten so much as his stomach churned. Were his parents disappointed in him? Worse, what if they rejected him for being lower status? Would they disown him? He didn’t want to be thrown out onto the streets at 17! He loved his parents, however absent they may be. The resulting whine that pulled from his throat further reminded Iwaizumi that he was not an Alpha. 

Because he was an Omega.

“Geez, you got to them before I could-... Iwaizumi?” He looked up from the floor, hands fumbling together from where he had tried to scrape the shredded plastic together. Green eyes widened when he realised it was neither of his parents. Matsukawa had one hand propped on his waist, the other hanging by his side. His usually lazy look was painted with concern and Iwaizumi realised he had been giving off distress signals. His food covered face, streaked with guilty tears didn’t help improve his appearance. He viciously wiped his sleeve over his face, at least trying to regain a small shred of dignity.

“Wh- What are you doing here?” Matsukawa pointed to what remained of the plastic bag.

“I was gonna make Agedashi Tofu and a side dish for you, but seeing as you’ve kind of eaten it uncooked...” Iwaizumi hunched his shoulders up and mumbled a defensive ‘sorry’ before accepting the hand that was offered to him, pulling him off the floor. He winced at the faint sting in his backside.

“How did you know I wasn’t in heat anymore though?”

“I’m a Beta, Iwaizumi. I can detect the tiniest chemical changes that say how deep in heat an Omega is, or how close to a rut an Alpha is, and even if a pair is bonded or not in an instance. Hell, I can tell your next door neighbour is pregnant, and I only waved to her as she got into a car. Makki and I visited every day; we could tell from down here roughly how much longer you had to go.” At the flood of information, Iwaizumi blinked. He’d never known what Beta’s truly had to go through, how much they could smell. The whole world, to a Beta, must be similar to when he had opened the fridge.

“Oh. How are you not going crazy yet?”

“... Alright, who are you and what have you done with Iwaizumi? Because the ‘Iwa-chan’ I know would _never_ think Makki and I were sane in the first place.” 

“True.” The taller made a quiet sound of protest, but his large hand ruffled Iwaizumi’s damp hair anyways. They made their way over to the sofa, so Iwaizumi could sit down. His legs were still somewhat shaking, and he felt exhausted. Matsukawa smelt of pine trees and cashew nuts, an earthy scent that relaxed Iwaizumi. It didn’t occur to him that the Beta was emitting a calming scent on purpose, not even when Iwaizumi ended up slouched against him in a near-slumber. Matsukawa’s hand just kept massaging circles on his shoulder, a comforting presence that made him forget his worries about being an Omega. 

In the back of his mind, Iwaizumi thanked whatever deity had led him to such amazing friends, which would take care of him through this stressful situation. He secretly wished that Oikawa could be there too, but having an Alpha around his home, where he had just presented wasn’t a good idea. His tranquillity disappeared into a cold pit, like a kick in the stomach, as he reran that thought through his mind. _Oikawa... Alpha... I’m an Omega... He could- he could claim me. He could manipulate me. Oikawa’s an Alpha and I’m not. There are other Alpha’s. They’re everywhere. What if they lose control? What if it happens in a match? ... An Alpha could try to make me submit in a match...._

Matsukawa must have felt Iwaizumi jolt at his own realisation, or felt the cold sweat breaking out. He could smell fear-scent leaking from the Omega, a distressing alarm because Iwaizumi was almost **never** scared.

“Iwaizumi? What’s wrong?” The Omega curled closer into him, instinctively seeking the comfort from a Beta. It was the closest he could get to an Omegan support group, and Matsukawa tilted his head to allow Iwaizumi to move right up to the scent gland. He felt the ghost of Iwaizumi’s breath brush over his neck before the Ace physically trembled. It was horrifying, to see Iwaizumi reduced to this just because he had presented. 

“I- I’m an Omega...” 

“Yeah... Yeah, we know that. It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay! How- How can I be a wing spiker for Aobajousai as an _Omega?!_ What kind of Ace am I?!” The terror was palpable in his voice, and Matsukawa couldn’t help but pull his friend closer, soothingly rubbing his back. He, like the rest of their team members, knew that Iwaizumi already had issues with his self esteem. They knew he had moments where he doubted himself to the point of hatred, or worse, lifeless emptiness. 

They’d seen it after their match against Ushijima when they were still second years. Oikawa would have preferred it if Iwaizumi had shrugged it off, focused on giving his team the support they needed. Hanamaki would have preferred it if Iwaizumi had punched something, or destroyed a bench, a wall, anything. Because at least that would get those frustrations out of the way. Matsukawa would have preferred it if Iwaizumi had cried, because it would have shed those feelings of self doubt in a healthy way. Instead, Iwaizumi had spent almost a week as a lifeless shell, a shadow of his former identity, going through the motions like clockwork with an emptiness that seemed like a black hole. It absorbed any emotion the Ace would have felt and prevented him from healthily expending his disappointment.

So Matsukawa knew very well of the doubts their respectable wing spiker had. He breathed out slowly, focusing on adjusting his own scent to soothe Iwaizumi personally. Each person was unique in the aromas that influenced their emotions, and Beta’s were the only dynamic who could achieve creating a unique thumbprint pattern for each pack member. He knew he’d mixed it to the perfect ratio when Iwaizumi’s shoulder slackened just a little.

“Don’t you think you’re focusing on the dynamic aspect too much? You’re an amazing Ace, Iwaizumi. You play Wing Spiker because that’s what you _are_ , because you’ve learnt it and trained for it. Because you’ve earned it. You can stay a Wing Spiker, not matter what dynamic you are, because it’s what you love. The team isn’t going to suddenly change just because you didn’t turn out the same as we expected. Hell, not even all of us expected you to be an Alpha. We had a bet going, and now we all owe Watari 500¥ each, the jerk.” 

“Wa-wait, he said I’d be an Omega...?”

“He’s a Beta like us. Guess he’s more sensitive to individual scents than Makki and me, huh?”

“Oh... You could have told him to warn me.”

“And give away the bet?” A light punch brushed Matsukawa’s other shoulder and he grinned, knowing that he’d pulled Iwaizumi out of the dark hole he’d been falling into. Or at the very least, given him a foothold towards the exit.

“I still... What if other teams Alpha’s try to make me submit in a match? I- I’m an Omega... They can _make_ me.” A thick eyebrow rose in scepticism.

“Can they?” There was a pause in which Iwaizumi thought long and hard, before moving away from Matsukawa’s contact to sit on the sofa properly. His eyebrows were furrowed together and glints of defiance materialized in his eyes. His entire posture read that of rebelliousness, the willpower to not give in to the dynamic he had been branded as.

“No. No they can’t.”


	3. Alpha.

Iwaizumi’s return to school the next day had been... Strangely uneventful. He’d left early, to explain his situation to the teachers before class, and then attended morning practice. The first years already had the net set up, the second years were pumping up deflated volleyballs, and his companion third years were still warming up. They’d been deep in conversation until Hanamaki had looked up with a smirk and nudged Oikawa. The setter had spun around with a dazzling grin, the same annoying face Iwaizumi remembered, and waved with a cheerful cry of _‘Iwa-chan~!’_. It was no different from any other morning when he came in last.

“Mornin’.” He stepped into the gymnasium, straight over to Yahaba. The second year setter looked up with a flickering of hesitance, like he was about to get told off by the vice captain. That was, until he picked up on the faint Omegan scent of concern that Iwaizumi was giving off. Most likely, it was entirely unconscious.

“Did your presentation go okay? No complications, no Alpha’s, you were safe the whole time? Were you looked after afterwards?” Yahaba lifted a hand to stop Iwaizumi in his tracks with a soft smile.

“Everything went smoothly, Senpai~. No Alphas were allowed in our house, and Watari walked me to school so I wasn’t overwhelmed on the first day. My parents are both Omega’s, so they knew about proper aftercare. It’s so normal, I can barely believe anything happened at all, let alone presenting heat.” Iwaizumi nodded at the sweet smile and was about to spin on his foot to join his fellow third years when Yahaba tilted his head in unease.

“Are you okay, Senpai? I heard you had to go through it alone, and since your parents aren’t Omegan...” Iwaizumi cleared his throat, suddenly wishing his hair was long enough to cover the tips of his ears, which burned in shame.

“I- uh- I’m still sore, but... Otherwise okay.”

“I’ll lend you a book on alleviating Omegan aches and pains.”

“That would be great, thank you. And... Welcome back, Yahaba. Congratulations on your presentation.” The vice captain bowed politely before quickly escaping over to his friends. Yahaba hid a soft smirk behind his hand. He’d always found it amusing how easily Iwaizumi flustered, despite his bravado. Now, he knew the reason behind it. Their secretly shy Ace was an Omega. Another characteristic of his was to put everyone else before himself. He was compassionate and kind, even if he cloaked it behind formal words, or violent gestures. Whenever Yahaba watched Iwaizumi interact with Oikawa, he was reminded of the phrase ‘Aggressively cares for you’, and he knew it to be true. He wondered why he hadn’t seen it before, how well Iwaizumi fit into the Omega category. Perhaps he, like the others, had been blindsided by the angry gestures and tendency to fly into rage. Oikawa would be the most surprised, having been on the receiving end of Iwaizumi’s ‘caring’ many times before.

“Oikawa!!! Stop slacking off and get to warming up properly! Are you _trying_ to damage your knee again?!”

“W-Wah! No Iwa-chan! I wasn’t slacking! Don’t hit me, I’m sowwyyyyyyy!” So began another normal practice on another normal day. That didn’t change when Coach Mizoguchi sent them out on suicide runs either. Iwaizumi was still ahead of the pack, his strong back paving the way for the others to follow. Occasionally, he’d cut off into another route that the team knew to be _longer_ than the mapped out one, but he’d still be ahead of them when he reunited with the team. They returned to the gymnasium, Kunimi practically collapsing at the entrance, and Iwaizumi was still good to go.

“Oikawa! Throw a few sets for me! I didn’t get to do any last week.”

“In a minute, Iwa-chan, just let me freshen up first~!”

“It’s fine, you always look like a bag of trash.”

“Rude!” The setter pouted as he put down his water bottle, moving into setting position. He casually examined his nails as he waited for Iwaizumi to pick a volleyball, seeing as he would go through the whole cart to find the _one_ that he liked using in practice. It had a smudge on it from where Hanamaki had brought a whiteboard pen to practice once. They’d drawn a grumpy face on it and called it the ‘Iwai-ball’, which he hadn’t appreciated very much. However, even though the pen had been cleaned off at Coach’s orders, the team knew that Iwaizumi would search high and low for this one ball, distinctive by its one tiny smudge. 

Oikawa smirked knowingly when Iwaizumi finally picked up a volleyball, giving a test smack against the ground to check it was inflated enough. If Iwaizumi ever started nesting, now a likely possibility, he would probably sneak that ball out of practice with him. Of course, if the Ace _did_ start to nest, Oikawa would definitely leave some spare clothing ‘accidentally’ lying around. The thought of Iwaizumi hiding a nest and burrowing in it when he was alone made Oikawa’s heart thump. Although it was an instinct for Omega’s, somehow, the idea of his best friend doing it was just too cute.

“Stop thinking perverted things!!!” A volleyball hit him directly between the eyes. He caught it in his hands as it rebounded off his face, giving a childlike whine.

“You brute, Iwa-chan! I wasn’t thinking perverted things! ... As such.”

“It was written all over your gross face! You were even drooling.”

“No, no! I was thinking cute things!” Iwaizumi fixed him with a look of disgust, and the Beta duo behind him was equally unimpressed. The shook their heads slowly with dissatisfaction, somehow exactly in time. Hanamaki reached up to pinch his nose, clueing Oikawa in to the fact that he was leaking Alpha scent. Sniffing experimentally, Oikawa bit his lip in mortification when he realised it was the scent of an Alpha trying to attract an intended Omega. Oikawa quickly drew back the odour. He threw the ball back to Iwaizumi so he could feed it in for a spike.

“Don’t mess this up because of your perverted Alpha thoughts, Dumbass!” Oikawa squawked with indignation as he perfectly set the ball, exactly how Iwaizumi favoured. The resounding spike echoed throughout the gymnasium with the force of an explosion, and Iwaizumi grinned as he pumped a fist into the air. It felt phenomenal; to know his presenting as an Omega hadn’t weakened him in any way. He still had his stamina, endurance, strength, and snarky bite. He still had his team.

“Alright, clear this up and get to lessons! I don’t want any more angry letters from your teachers saying you were late because of practice!” Irihata fixed them with a stern yet entertained look, sending them into pack away mode. Hanamaki and Matsukawa deconstructed the net whilst Watari and the first years grabbed the floor mops to sweep across the gym floor. Yahaba started packing the volleyballs into their bags of four. As per usual, Oikawa was attempting to sneak away early, probably to ‘freshen up’ before classes. He always liked to draw attention from the girls. Just this once, Iwaizumi let him slip away. He wasn’t sure why, but he blamed it upon still being tired from his week at home. He hadn’t done much resting, yesterday. From the second Matsukawa had left, he’d studied until the sun started to set, before throwing all his bedding in the wash. Only four times, despite how much he wanted to set it alight instead. It was only when Yahaba brushed against his shoulder, he realised the other Omega had been reading signals from him. _Fear_ signals. He froze in place, eyes fixated on the ground with mild trauma as he grasped understanding.

He was scared.

He was scared of being alone with his best friend.

_Because Oikawa was an **Alpha** and he was **not.**_

A light shudder ran through him and he felt Yahaba press a supportive hand to his forearm. With a low, Omegan growl, Iwaizumi pushed him away and thundered towards the changing rooms. Like _hell_ he was going to be scared of trash bag-dumbass-Oikawa Tooru! He was going to sort this out before it became a habit, and if that meant stubbornly locking himself in the changing rooms, alone with an Alpha, that was what he was going to do. Oikawa looked up as Iwaizumi entered, halfway through taking his shirt off. He smiled, giving Iwaizumi one of his best ‘enchanting’ looks.

“Iwa-chaaaaaan, you let me escape earlyyyyy~.”

“Cut the shit, Oikawa.” Shirt removed, Oikawa fixed Iwaizumi with an interested, confused look. The locker room door was clicked shut, the Vice Captain’s key turning in the lock. An angry face stared back at him, lips pulled back to bare teeth in a snarl; eyes alit with stubbornness and defiance, eyebrows tightly knitted to the bridge of his nose. It was an expression Iwaizumi only wore when he was absolutely furious at himself, and determined to prove his doubts wrong. That was usually around term testing time. Iwaizumi stormed over to the Captain and grabbed him by the shoulders, seeing as he had no collar to hold. Blunt nails dug into his delicate skin and Oikawa pouted.

“Oi, you don’t have to hurt me, y’know. I haven’t done anything wrong. Wait. I haven’t done anything wrong, have I?!”

“Shut up for one second!” He knew from the flash of canines that he was stepping on dangerous territory. Oikawa held two hands up in defence as Iwaizumi stared at him for an uncomfortable amount of time. Green eyes flickered as they darted over Oikawa’s body and he thought that maybe he was being admired, until he noticed how tense and on edge Iwaizumi was. He was prepared to launch into a battle. He was watching for a twitch of Oikawa’s muscles, anything to say the setter was about to move, or force Iwaizumi into submission. A pang of pity echoed in his heart, which he knew his best friend would hate, but it was honestly the only way he could feel, seeing his childhood companion expecting to be attacked.

“Iwa-chan, calm down.”

“Shut up, _Alpha!_ ” The sharp bite in the tone, decorated with fear, instantly clued the clever setter into what Iwaizumi was thinking. They’d been friends long enough to know what was running though each other’s minds with a simple glance. This was simply a new situation for them to adjust to. Oikawa moved slowly, ignoring how tightly the nails dug into his shoulders, little crescent marks being etched into his skin, and sat himself on one of the benches in their clubroom. He was placing himself lower than the Omega, making himself seem less threatening and more respectful. Keeping his voice light but soft, Oikawa delivered a genuine smile of reassurance to his best friend.

“I’m not going to force-claim you, Hajime. Neither am I going to force you to submit, or even _ask_ you to submit. We’re equals. We always have been, and I’m not letting silly labels and ruts and heats get in the way of that. Even if you’re an Omega and I’m an Alpha, we both know which one of us is in control~.”

“Do we? How do I know you’re not manipulating me right now, Tooru?” First name basis. Good. Iwaizumi was still placing utmost trust in him.

“Because if I was, don’t you think I would have already marked you by now? If I had no control over my Alphan instincts, I would have flooded you with my scent as soon as you closed the door. But I didn’t. I don’t think of us as Alpha and Omega. I know us as Tooru and Hajime. You’ve never let me down, not once. You’ve always proved yourself trustworthy, and you’ve always protected me, even at the cost of your own mental health. Iwaizumi... Hajime. Please, do the same for me. Trust me not to let you down, trust me not to hurt you, and let _me_ protect _you_ this time. Even from myself.” He tilted his head to the side, closing his eyes with a smile so that they creased at the sides. He exposed his neck entirely to Iwaizumi, a show of vulnerability and respect. Iwaizumi could easily have sunk his teeth in and ended Oikawa’s life, if he saw fit.

“... I- I understand.” Iwaizumi released his hold on Oikawa’s shoulders, no longer tensed with fright. He took a few steps back, but Oikawa didn’t like how low he held his head, in an instinctive apology. He breathed out slowly.

“Hajime~. You’ll be okay.” Iwaizumi’s head bolted right up; held proudly once more with a fiery determination.

“O- Of course I will, dumbass! And I’ll kick your ass if ever forget it!” He turned his back on Oikawa as he stomped back over to the changing room door, not realising how significant it was that he would do so. Oikawa’s lips twitched upwards and his eyes glittered with joy, watching the firm back of his Ace disappear out the door.

“I’ll ask you to be my Omega, Iwa-chan, but I’ll do it the _right_ way.” Iwaizumi didn’t hear him, pocketing his key as he determined it wasn’t needed. Immediately, Hanamaki was crossing the distance between the gymnasium and the changing room to meet him.

“Iwaizumi!! Are you alright?!” For once, Iwaizumi didn’t have to force or fake a grin.

“Yeah. I’m good. Really good, actually.” Hanamaki stared at him with an unreadable expression before he leaned in slightly. From this angle, he looked like a disproving parent.

“What did you do with Oikawa?”

“We talked.”

“You talked? Or you ‘talked’? I hope you used protection.”

“Wh-What, no! Don’t be crude! We literally just talked!”

“You must’ve done something! Anything! Even killed him!” Iwaizumi folded his arms, fixing his eyebrow-less teammate with a stubborn stare.

“We. Talked. I-. Look, I had to hear it from him _directly_ that he wasn’t going to abuse his ranking over me. We all know he would never, because I’d kick his ass, but I had to hear it said.” Hanamaki blinked, then mirrored Iwaizumi’s stance with a little less rigidness.

“Alpha, Beta, Omega, Unpresented... What do we care? We’re your team, Iwaizumi. None of us would ever do something like that to you, or Yahaba, or if one of the first years present Omega. We’re on your side.” The words put Iwaizumi more and more at ease. Any unsettlement he had been feeling before was ground into the dust, and he huffed out in amusement. How stupid he had been, to think that his dynamic would affect his team play. They knew him as Iwaizumi Hajime, Vice Captain, and Ace of Aobajousai. They didn’t care that he was Omega. Other volleyball teams would know him as Iwaizumi-San, Wing Spiker and Ace. His dynamic just didn’t matter, and he was starting to comprehend that.

“Hanamaki. I uhh, thanks. Y’know. For last week...”

“URGH. Don’t go all gracious on us, Iwa. It doesn’t suit you at all!” Iwaizumi rolled his eyes and delivered a swift punch to Hanamaki’s torso.

“You _wish_ I was gracious. Maybe then you’d have a chance of beating me at arm wrestling!”

“I’ll defeat you someday! Just you wait until lunch time! I’ll slam your wrist on the table so hard it breaks!”

“Uh-huh. Right.”


	4. Trust.

The return to school had been smooth. Incredibly smooth. Iwaizumi was lulled into a false sense of security, having let his guard down around the team. He had no experience with being an Omega, and had henceforth forgotten that Alpha’s could scent him, Unmarked, not bonded, and Unclaimed. He hadn’t known at all how he was vulnerable until break time. Iwaizumi’s back impacted with the tiles of the third year’s boy’s bathroom. He grunted in discomfort, pushing off the wall to stand. Four assholes from his year – delinquents, he figured – had cornered him before he could even do his business.

“What do you want?” One of them leered, moving in to almost press his face to Iwaizumi’s. His eye twitched at the god-awful breath, before his stomach flipped at the strong, overwhelming Alpha stench. He cursed his weakness, knowing that the Alpha wasn’t even trying to scent him! It was just proximity; he’d been closer to Oikawa and still felt safe! So why were his instincts screaming at him to escape...?

“Aww, look, the pitiful creature is trying to communicate, how cute! How about you get down on the floor where you belong first, huh, _Omega_?” The toxic smell increased, Iwaizumi holding back a gag as he brought his hands up to cover his nose. It wasn’t enough, he could still smell it, it was infiltrating his senses, it was horrific, he was being forced to submit-!

“Like HELL!” He kicked out, his foot impacting the joint just below the ringleader’s knee. The Alpha yelped, before turning a ferocious growl on Iwaizumi. His eyes widened. Maybe that hadn’t been such a good idea. The other three shuffled closer as he was pinned against the walls of the bathroom.

“You think you’re so brave? Huh, Omega, do ya? Think you could get out of here by _kicking_ your superior?”

“You’re **not** my superior.”

“Aha! He’s disobedient! Oh, how I’m going to enjoy breaking you down slowly. Don’t worry, by the time you go back to class, you’ll have learnt your place~.” A cold chill ran down Iwaizumi’s spine, and not just because he was being blocked in against a hard wall. He had an Alpha holding his left arm against the wall, and another Alpha holding his right arm in a twisted hold, impossible for him to move it without tearing a muscle. Each of those two were also standing on a foot each, rendering Iwaizumi unable to move. The third Alpha, smaller than the other three, stood by the bathroom door. He was guarding the attackers, making sure they were not discovered. The final Alpha, the leader of this pack, cracked his knuckles in his hands as he sneered down at Iwaizumi.

“Shame, really. We probably aren’t the first to get to you, are we? How many of your team members did you whore yourself out to? How many Alpha’s did you take during heat? I bet your hole is still loose and slick, right, _Omega_?” Like a cloud of black, heavy smoke, Alpha scents descended upon Iwaizumi and he coughed out, feeling like he was suffocating. He snarled ferociously, a warning signal for the Alpha to back off. 

He knew that as soon as he let down his guard, this Alpha would have him on his knees, submitting. Baring his canines and flaring up a stubborn rejection scent, he knew the only thing he could do was try to control what little he knew about his Omega status as a defence.

“Heh! Fightin’ spirit is wasted on you stupid Omega’s! If only you had been an Alpha...”

“Don’t fucking remind me! You think I _wanted_ to be an Omega?! Shit, if I were an Alpha, I’d have taken you out right now! As it is, you’re using three against one! What’s wrong, _Alpha_? Scared you’re too weak for a pathetic Omega like me?” Iwaizumi knew he’d said the right thing when the Alpha clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth in annoyance. The leader gestured with one hand for the two restraining Iwaizumi to release him. As soon as his arms were freed, Iwaizumi delivered a strong punch to the one on his left, knocking him out in a mere second, before whirling round to elbow the second Alpha in the ribs.

“Now, where were we?” He dusted off his uniform sleeves, looking up at the Alpha pack leader. His face was twisted with shock and disbelief.

“I- Impossible! You’re an Omega! You’re weak! You’re filth, lower than the ground I walk on!”

“Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that.” As Iwaizumi stepped forward, the Alpha growled. It was low, vibrating through his bones and shaking his organs, and he froze in his place, not even breathing. His knees were going weak. His thighs were trembling. _His backside was tingling._

Iwaizumi instantly knew that his body was betraying him.

_‘No... No! I don’t want this! I don’t want this Alpha, I don’t want to submit! I’m not **going** to! I refuse! I don’t want him! I want Oikawa-!’_ A roar echoed in the bathroom, but it didn’t force Iwaizumi onto his knees. It flooded him with a safe feeling. _Oikawa!’_

“Step away from him, _right NOW_ , before I tear you to pieces!” The delinquent Alpha backed up. His scent wasn’t strong enough. Instinctually, he knew he was the weaker Alpha. He would not win if Oikawa decided to attack him. Oikawa gave another sharp growl before the members of the Alpha pack left in a hurry. Then, the scents in the room decreased to barely anything and Oikawa turned to Iwaizumi with a frantically worried expression. The Ace had fallen to his knees, pressing his legs tightly together on the floor and bunched his fists into the material around his thighs.

“Iwa-chan! Are you okay?! What did they do to you?!” Iwaizumi batted away the hands that would have landed on his shoulders.

“D-Don’t touch me!”

“I- Iwa-chan...” Oikawa sniffed the air, eyes widening when he could smell the very faint undertone of slick. He knew exactly why Iwaizumi didn’t want to be touched. The proud Ace, his best friend since childhood, was leaking in preparation for an Alpha. It was beyond his control, an evolutionary fault that had yet to be corrected.

“It’s okay, I’m not going to do anything.”

“It’s so fucking stupid! I- I didn’t want it! I’m not a whore!” Oikawa moved into a toilet cubicle, folding up some toilet paper before passing it over to Iwaizumi and ushering him in into a different one to clean up.

“You’re not, Iwaizumi. We know that. Those pathetic Alpha’s might not have, but why should their opinion matter?” It was quiet for a instance. Oikawa held his shirt over his nose to prevent any sweet Omegan scents entering his nostrils.

“It doesn’t. Their opinion doesn’t matter.”

“Exactly~! Besides, it looked like you beat two of them into the ground~!” The toilet flushed and then Iwaizumi stepped out, with a confident smirk. He moved to wash his hands, still talking to Oikawa over his shoulder.

“It was piss easy. They’re weaker then _you_ , and that’s saying something.”

“Mean, Iwa-chan, mean~!” The brunette lightly batted at Iwaizumi’s upper arm, whining the same childish way he always did when there weren’t girls around to impress. Iwaizumi snickered before looking at Oikawa incredibly seriously, sullen.

“Hey. Thanks. I don’t want to think about what these stupid Omega instincts would have let them do, if you hadn’t come along.”

“Don’t dwell on it, Iwa-chan! Remember, you’re only this sensitive right now because you’re newly presented! Yahaba-Chan had difficulties too, but Watachin and Mad Dog kept him safe~.”

“... Are you saying I have to stay around you, Matsukawa, or Hanamaki for a few days?”

“Two days! That’s today and tomorrow!” Iwaizumi snorted, cutting himself short with an appalled groan.

“Forget it, I’ll stay home.”

“What?! Don’t you trust us to help you?”

“Oh, I trust you plenty fine. But I spend enough time around you idiots anyways. I think I’ll lose my last tendril of patience if I have to spend _extra_ time with you.” Oikawa’s jaw dropped. How insulting! Still, he was glad that Iwaizumi was acting like himself once more. He’d feared the Omega would suffer minor trauma, as far too many Omega’s did after their presentation. He crossed his arms proudly, swollen with satisfaction that his best friend was so strong. A boundary breaking Omega, who showed they were not controlled by their dynamic.

“Aww, and here I thought you’d want to steal pieces from my homemade bento today~.” Oikawa wasn’t oblivious to the way Iwaizumi paused, if only for a second. He knew from reading forums online that Iwaizumi’s appetite would have increased a substantial amount after presenting, to regain energy from a week of starvation. Not to mention, he’d always had a ravenous appetite anyways...

“... Homemade?”

“Yup. My sister is home to watch our match, so she made mine this morning.” Iwaizumi stuffed his hands in his pockets as he exited the bathroom, throwing a glare at Oikawa, who smugly followed behind.

“You can’t cook for shit, but if it’s your sister who made it...” A light laugh escaped the Alpha, moving to possessively sling an arm around Iwaizumi’s shoulder as a few Alphan eyes landed on him.

“I’ll share, I’ll share~! Meet you at lunch, Iwa-chan~!” He squeezed Iwaizumi’s shoulders in a way that the other would think was his usual annoying form of support and comfort, but what Iwaizumi didn’t know was that Oikawa was specifically pressing a fingerprint over his gland, marking this Omega as taken.

“Get back to class before you fail, trash bag.”

“You wound me, Iwa Iwa~.” Oikawa certainly failed to dodge the smack to his chest at the rise of the childhood nickname. Iwaizumi turned back to march to his seat near the centre of the classroom, ignoring the astonished looks he was given, and the whispers that started to circulate about how an _Omega_ had smacked an _Alpha_. When the teacher came into the classroom, blissful silence was granted. Iwaizumi worked hard, taking down the usual diligent notes, and highlighting important terms or phrases. There were a few areas that he circled, to do further research on later. It was most likely material that had been studied in his week off, which he hadn’t managed to catch up on. He’d finish that by tonight, if he sat down straight after practice. Perhaps Oikawa, a class above him, could even help at lunchtime. Time seemed to fly, to the point where Iwaizumi was sure he must have missed something, lost in his thoughts. As soon as the bell rang for lunch, the classroom door slid open.

“Oiiiii, Iwaizumi! We’re all meeting on the field!” Hanamaki waved from his place in the doorway, and Iwaizumi quickly gathered his items, slinging them in his bag and approaching at a casual pace.

“All of us?”

“Yeah, the volleyball main team. We forgot to tell you that.” The duo chatted as they walked, joined by Kyoutani as they descended the stairwell past the second years floor. He didn’t talk much, occasionally grunted or shrugging. For an Alpha, Kyoutani was quiet. He still had the traditional Alphan gruffness, and the need to compete, but as a pack member, he could still sense that Iwaizumi was superior. Dynamics didn’t matter if that person could defeat you at everything. At least, that was the view Kyoutani had. 

The school field was dotted with groups and gatherings, packs meeting up and friends conversing in their groups. Somehow, (Iwaizumi reminded himself that Hanamaki was a Beta, and could practically _see_ where the others had gone), the Aobajousai pack found each other in one of the corners of the field. Matsukawa raised a lazy hand in greeting. He looked pleased with himself, like he was hiding a secret. Watari was even more obvious, grinning and snickering.

“Took you long enough~.” Hanamaki huffed and glared at them both.

“Well if a certain two people hadn’t led me on a wild goose chase by walking in patterns around the field, we would have been here sooner!” Watari and Matsukawa high-fived at their Beta companion’s annoyance. It was often this way, that two of them would pair up to prank the other. Iwaizumi rolled his eyes as he took his usual place seated between Oikawa and Kindaichi. His stomach gave an earnest growl when Oikawa pulled the lid off his bento. 

Iwaizumi opened his own, purchased from a convenience store that morning, and dug in hungrily. Half the food fell from his chopsticks in his rush, and his face was decorated with grains of rice by the time he had finished what was in the box. Desperately, his stomach unfulfilled, he picked at the little bits of food that had fallen onto his uniform. Had he been paying attention, he would have noticed Oikawa take the empty bento box away to place a few things into, then passing it around the circle. By the time Kindaichi placed it back in front of Iwaizumi, the box was almost overflowing.

“Huh?” He blinked, looking at the box he was _sure_ he had polished off, before picking up on the sounds of amusement from around the circle. He kept his head low, to hide the grin that threatened to bloom across his face, and ate at a slower tempo than before, careful not to spill anything. Glances were spared in his direction every now and then, but asides from that, everything was normal. Completely, utterly normal. The heat of the sun was pleasant, and accompanied with the sensation of a full stomach, made him feel rather sleepy.

“Umm... Guys? Help?” The team broke into quiet laughter at Kindaichi’s caught-in-the-headlights look, his shoulder weighed down with his upperclassman, whom had drifted into an afternoon nap. Yahaba placed his chopsticks down, leaning in to share his words of wisdom and experience. He kept the volume quiet in case anyone nearby was eavesdropping, and had vile intentions. Oikawa had already informed them about the bathroom incident.

“Just leave him for a few minutes, he’ll wake up of his own accord. It’s warm, his belly is as full as it has been for a week, and it’s his first day back. He’ll readjust by tomorrow~.”

“Did you fall asleep on your first day back, Senpai?”

“Twice! Both times during class! It’s a good thing the teachers understand!” Kindaichi listened carefully, sparing a glance across to Kunimi every now and then. He had his suspicions that Kunimi would present as Omega, and it was already hard enough to keep him awake in mind-numbing lessons. It was best to learn as many things as he could, in preparation for when either of them did present sometime next year. 

They were lucky to have an Alpha, Beta and Omega in the current second years to help them through it. Before Yahaba had presented, there had been no history of Omega’s in Aobajousai volleyball club. Neither he nor Iwaizumi would have had anyone to talk to in a casual setting. Yahaba had his parents, but that wouldn’t provide the support group that every Omega ultimately craved. 

In every pack, if there was one Omega, there was bound to be another. Omega’s stuck together. Henceforth, Kindaichi was pleased that Yahaba now had another Omega within their team to establish this support with, but he was still upset that neither of them had Senpai of their own to guide them through it. Having presented three days apart, there was no way they’d see what to expect unless they watched other Omega’s outside the pack. Even then, it wouldn’t be satisfactory enough knowledge to make things easier. They were essentially on their own.

“Kin-chan, why the frumpy face~? Is Iwa-chan too heavy?”

“No, it’s okay! I was just thinking really hard about... Stuff.”

“Ooh, poetic.”

“Really poetic.” Kindaichi sent a dull look to Matsukawa and Hanamaki.

“That repetition thing works well for you guys, doesn’t it?”


	5. Panic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reasons being an Omega sucks; Heightened sensitivity to environment brings about an increased risk of panic attacks.

As soon as the lessons for the day finished, Iwaizumi found himself alienated. Classmates who had talked to him before now completely ignored him, either because he was an Omega, or because he had smacked an Alpha. Word was now also circulating about how he had taken out _four_ Alpha’s in the bathroom, without provoking! It was a lie, but Iwaizumi knew he wouldn’t be taken seriously no matter how much he protested that. 

Besides, who was he to admit that he was nearly forced into submission, and left with an embarrassing dampness before being rescued by the schools favourite pretty boy? He would rather be avoided. It only showed who his true friends were. He was given space to change by himself, so that he wasn’t affected by accidental odour leaking. 

Kyoutani was still learning to control his scent, although a light dusting of smoke and bacon wasn’t too bad. The usual banter proceeded, until a hand brushed over the bare skin of his back. Iwaizumi turned on whoever it was with a warning snarl. He immediately retracted it when he saw Kunimi looking up at him with wide brown eyes, flickering with hesitance.

“...Sorry. I didn’t hear you approach.” The first year acknowledged the apology with a small nod, before pressing his fingers to Iwaizumi’s back. He only just realised that some sort of cream or lotion was being applied. It didn’t reek like air salon pas, so it must have been something gentler.

“You’re badly bruised, and there’s a small cut here.”

“Oh... Uh... Yeah. I- I slipped over earlier.” Iwaizumi didn’t see the way his entire team tensed up very slightly, only a minor twitch in most instances. Oikawa looked at him sadly from across the room, wishing that Iwaizumi would abandon his pride for the sake of safety. They already knew the truth, and now they knew that Iwaizumi would never admit to something like that happening. 

It was dangerous. If he was badly hurt, would he still refrain from reaching out to them? What if he was force-claimed? What if he was taken advantage of? Oikawa wanted to reach over and pull his best friend into a tight hug, if it wouldn’t end with getting into an argument about how smothering he was.

“Ah... Does it hurt when I touch them?”

“Barely. What cream is that anyways?”

“Calendula. With lavender, frankincense, and coconut oil. It’s homemade.”

“Homemade? You get bruises a lot, Kunimi?” He peered over his shoulder at an angle to catch the _(annoyingly taller)_ first year smirk.

“No, but I’m used to looking after Kindaichi. You won’t _believe_ how clumsy he is.” Iwaizumi couldn’t hold back a bark of laughter, joining in with Oikawa, Matsukawa, Hanamaki, Watari, and Yahaba, as Kindaichi feebly protested in embarrassment.

“I think we all can~. Remember that time we were sweeping the gym floor and he ran straight into the net?”

“Oh yeah! Or when he chased after the ball and tripped over his shoelaces! I swear his face went flat against the wall!”

“There was that time you thought you could take a shortcut on the training run... And ended up **in** a tree.” Comical looks turned to Kyoutani, who shrugged and quickly exited the clubroom. Those eyes then turned to Kindaichi, who burnt a brilliant red all the way from his hairline to below his collar.

“... I-... I’m clumsy, okay?!” Mortified, the young spiker fled the clubroom whilst leaving a trainer behind. Soft chuckles followed his hasty exit. Yahaba and Watari left next, the Beta remembering to take Kindaichi’s shoe with him. Oikawa followed them, still spraying his carefully sculpted curls and locks with extra strong volumizing hairspray. He threw it back towards his bag as he skipped over the step.

“Don’t be too long~. We only have a week until our practice game, so let’s work hard!” Sarcastic sounds of excitement came from Hanamaki and Matsukawa in unison. Whenever Oikawa said ‘work hard’, that generally meant pushing oneself to breaking point or exhaustion. Kunimi didn’t even bother to hide his groan of anguish. Iwaizumi smirked. He already knew the exact order of when people would drop out.

Kunimi, obviously, would go first. He had endurance, but not stamina. Being forced to work as hard as possible meant he would quickly wilt, like a flower in winter. Yahaba would follow, having focused all his training on being a setter. It would be the spiking practice that would get him. Matsukawa would drop out 10 minutes before the end, closely followed by Kindaichi. 

Watari’s boundless energy would lead him to fifth place, until he physically couldn’t move anymore. Oikawa would complain about being sweaty and complete the Spartan training before moving the side to flop over someone’s legs and whine. In the end, Hanamaki and Kyoutani would be competing for 2nd place. Training this hard generally went into overtime, and Iwaizumi would emerge the victor just as the other members started regaining their breath.

“Please tell me you have other bruises I can treat so I don’t have to go...” Iwaizumi snorted as he pulled his shirt on before turning round. He ruffled Kunimi’s hair, the flat expression never changing from what he could only describe as despairing.

“Tough luck, Kiddo. Hey, if you hold on until Matsukawa drops out, I’ll treat you to ramen.”

“I’ll... Try my best.”

Iwaizumi had been wrong. Whilst the training _had_ been Spartan, cruel, and nothing short of torture, Kunimi did not give in first. He vaguely made note to tempt the kid with food more often, watching as Watari lay motionless on the floor, and Kunimi slowly trudged to a halt before joining the libero face down on the gymnasium floorboards. Iwaizumi huffed fondly, turning his attention back to his own training regime. Maybe he’d treat them all to something... They were all going beyond expectation. That somewhat worried him.

“Oikawa! You’ve finished, go and cool off!”

“Wh-what? No, I can do a few more laps Iwa-chan~.”

“SIT. Before you injure your knee all over again.” With a high-pitched whine, the Alpha made his way over to a bench and sat with his chin in his hands, elbows propped up on his legs. Having slowed down to lecture the Captain, Iwaizumi could feel Kyoutani right on his heels. Calmly, he picked up the pace again. The pungent scent of frustration, leaking from the Alpha behind him, made Iwaizumi smirk. 

As gross as it smelt, (bacon burnt to a crisp, Iwaizumi thought,) it was proof that Kyoutani was close to giving up. A thud from behind signalled Hanamaki literally dropping out. 

This was now a race between the two most stubborn members of Aobajousai. The calm, pacing oneself method went out the window as Iwaizumi looked over his shoulder, shared a grin with his kouhai, and they both broke into a fast sprint, skidding around the corners and almost slipping on patches of sweat.

“Both of you stop! Oh, for god’s sake, you do this every time! Iwaizumi! Kyoutani! _Listen to me, and stop!_ You’re going to get hurt one of these days!” Coach Mizoguchi’s input from the sidelines had no effect, the teenagers fighting for top spot. The race was on, and Iwaizumi could feel his heart thumping in his chest, his lungs battling for oxygen, and his muscles screaming, but it was so _exhilarating_!

“Iwa-chan, _STOP!!!_ ” At the sound of Oikawa’s dominant voice, a strong Alpha demand for him to obey, Iwaizumi skidded to a halt, tumbling over his own feet. He landed in a large patch of liquid, where Watari’s water bottle had leaked. 

Thank goodness Oikawa had stopped him. If he hadn’t... There might not be an Iwaizumi left to shout at. 

Or at least one with a snapped neck. Mizoguchi stormed over, ready to lecture him, until he noticed the dazed and somewhat shocked look on Iwaizumi’s face.

“Oikawa, you shouldn’t have used your Alpha capabilities for that, but clever thinking. Iwaizumi, can you stand?” Nodding, he pushed himself up. He was shaking. He could have died. The water droplets dripped from his palms and skin, mixing in with sweat. He could have died. A dull ache in the bottom of his spine probably meant there would be an impact bruise. He could have _died_. He could feel vibes of fretful concern coming from his support, his pack companion Omega, and he thought to shakily raise a hand to Yahaba to show he was okay. _He could have died._

“Yeah... Yeah, I’m okay.” He balled his hands into fists, trying to control the trembling in his fingertips. He could have slipped on the invisible obstacle, somersaulted uncontrollably across the gym floor, broken bones, snapped his neck, hit his head, and died. Kyoutani appeared sheepishly by his side, head bowed in a rare show of Alpha admission of guilt.

“I.. Shouldn’t have challenged you in an unsafe environment. Sorry.”

“It’s fine. I’m okay, aren’t I?” Kyoutani nodded. With a obstinate huff, Iwaizumi reached out and tapped the back of his hand against Kyoutani’s bicep.

“Don’t be such a moron. I challenged you too, so I’m equally at fault.”

“I’m glad you both realise that.” Their faces turned to Mizoguchi, quickly losing colour at the strict, cold expression tugging at every inch of his face. They would not get away without punishment.

“Everyone else can take extra time to recover. Iwaizumi, Kyoutani, you’re on clean-up duty.” Thankful groans came from the bodies sprawled across the floor and on benches. Kyoutani grumbled at the response, but went to carry out his task with an Alphan dignity. Iwaizumi didn’t move from his spot. He was rigid, not daring to move in case his feet gave way or he slipped on more water or he’d sprained something or he’d hurt someone else or-

“Shh, you’re okay... You’re okay...” Warm arms suddenly wrapped around him, pulling him in to rest against a soft shoulder. Omegan scents flooded him and he weakened. He whimpered as he moved to grip back, tightly clenching Yahaba’s shirt in his fists. 

A soft hand rubbed his back, whilst the other held his head against the glands that secreted Omega comfort chemicals. It was unique that it could only be faintly detected by Beta’s, but was incredibly strong to another Omega. 

Iwaizumi’s distress had instinctively awoken a compelling impulse to nurture and comfort from within Yahaba, and he had given it no thought before he had crossed the court and pulled him close. Ordinarily, he would never risk in his life in such a way. But he could almost _hear_ what Iwaizumi was thinking, the message clear in his distress signals.

_‘I could have died, I could have died... If Oikawa hadn’t stopped me, I’d be dead! I would have fallen and-’_

“We would catch you. Whenever you fall, wherever you fall, we’ll be here. We’re your pack, we won’t let you die stupidly like that...” Matsukawa and Watari had instantly moved in at Yahaba’s words, understanding exactly what was going through their Ace’s mind. The others would have followed, but... Exhaustion rooted them to their places on the floor. 

Kunimi might actually have passed out. Kindaichi was sat cross-legged next to him, trying to shake him into getting up. Oikawa pushed himself up from his bench, ignoring the ache of his knee as he pushed Matsukawa aside to latch onto Iwaizumi from behind.

“You’re not dead, _Hajime..._ We wouldn’t let you. Trust in us. You’re the only Iwa-chan in the world, and you’re not escaping me that easily.”

“Sh-shut up, Tooruuuu...” The reply came through a wobbly sob, but it was a reaction. The Omegan comfort, as well as the pressure of having his friends draped over him, was gradually calming Iwaizumi down from his near panic. He knew it was stupid to have an attack over _slipping in water_ , but it had legitimately seemed like the only thing that could have happened in that situation. 

He burrowed his face closer into Yahaba’s shoulder, hiding his blush of humiliation. A gentle laugh from his fellow Omega betrayed that he was giving off strong scents indicating his switch from panic and fear, to embarrassment and ridicule.

“It’s okay, Senpai! We’ve seen you cry before! Besides, we all know it's those new Omega hormones~.” He gave a small growl under his breath, broken by a hiccup. Oikawa snickered gleefully right in Iwaizumi’s ear.

“Ohoho my, the third time you’ve almost died at practice, and the fifth time you’ve cried~. You’re showing your clumsy and soft sides, Iwa Iwa~!” An elbow planted itself in Oikawa’s cut and he backed off to rub the sore spot. Despite how muscular Iwaizumi was for a teenager, his elbows and knees were remarkable bony. He could probably use them as weapons, which Oikawa reckoned he already knew. It would explain the numerous times he had pushed Iwaizumi too far and received an elbow to the ribs, or knee to the calf... 

Now, however, Iwaizumi seemed to have calmed from the teasing, pulling away from Yahaba to cross his arms and glare at Oikawa. His cheeks were still streaked with saltwater, but he held such an intimidating level of pride, that not even mortal enemies would think he had just broken down.

“At least I’m not an ugly crier like you!”

“Mean, Iwa-chan, mean! I’m always beautiful!”

“You look like a blobfish when you’re blubbering!”

“You’re just jealous because I’m prettier than you!”

“Who _cares_ about being pretty?!” The sound that escaped Oikawa as he was headbutted (Gently, as Iwa-chan always was) was hilarious enough that the team started snickering, politely trying to muffle their amusement. 

The setter pouted with a comedic irritation, muttering under his breath about how everyone was so mean, and Iwa-chan was such a brute, and the bruise would still be there during TV coverage of their match. 

Still, out of his peripheral vision, he could see Iwaizumi now offering a helping hand to Kindaichi, much happier than he had been for a long while. He wasn’t angry, he wasn’t scared, he wasn’t sad. Most importantly, he wasn’t empty. 

He was smiling, and talking, and _laughing_ , and it was the most beautiful Oikawa had seen him since before their Shiratorizawa match last year. His laugh was deep yet light, it carried across a room easily, despite how gentle it was. It was a mix between thunder and triple chocolate cookie dough, Oikawa decided. With a sprinkling of self-control.

His heart thumped wildly in his chest. Clutching at his shirt, Oikawa was so enraptured by the sight of Iwaizumi being _happy_ , that he didn’t notice Hanamaki and Matsukawa sneaking up behind him until he had a Beta draped over each shoulder with matching devious grins.

“Hey lover boy, you’ve got hearts for eyes.”

“You’re glowing.”

“He’s so in love, it’s painful to watch.”

“Very painful. Agony. How long until he confesses?”

“Who knows, Issei? He’s too dense to realise himself.”

“Who knows indeed. Think we should offer some help?” Oikawa batted them off his shoulders, his face filled with determination and the same shock as when Iwaizumi had stolen his lunch once.

“Makki, Mattsun... I’m so in love.” The duo gave matching smirks, looking extremely pleased. Like the cat who got the cream.

“We know.”

“We know more than you think~.” He tilted his head curiously to the side, lips pulling into a thin line, the same way it always did when he was adorably confused. Matsukawa said nothing more, patting Hanamaki on the shoulder for good luck before he went over to help Iwaizumi drag a exhausted Kunimi over to a spot near the open doors.

“Makkiiiiii! Don’t be enigmatic! Help me out here!” Hanamaki put one hand on his hips, the other holding up his water bottle matter-of-factly.

“Look, you’re just wasting time if you wait for Iwaizumi to make a move first. He’s stubborn, and rejects his own emotions for the sake of normality. **You** have to step up your game. You’re not the only one with eyes on him. Earlier today, when we were crossing the field to get to you guys, I saw plenty of Alpha’s looking at him in _desire_. Not because of who he is, but because of what he is. Move too slow, Oikawa, and they’ll steal him from you. They’ll force him into things he doesn’t want, they’ll break him. You’ve loved him before we even began presenting... Do us all a favour and Alpha up. Tell him, give him your intention, claim him and mark him. Before anyone else does.” 

Oikawa’s fist clenched by his side, nails digging into the palms of his hands as he bit his lip in frustration and anger, staring blankly ahead with an indescribable rage boiling up inside him. Hanamaki walked off, leaving the setter to mull things over. 

Perhaps he had said things too bluntly. Perhaps he had been too crude. But from the reaction he had seen right then and there, he knew Oikawa was taking his words seriously. Something was bound to happen.

“Gather round!” There was time to mull upon it as Coach called them to huddle. Whilst Kyoutani had cleaned everything up by himself, including the lethal patch of water, the small strategy board was still out. Mizoguchi stood by it, arms folded. In the end, Oikawa Tooru was not a genius. But he was smart. Coach would give them the formations, and Oikawa would manipulate them until they were perfect against the opponents they would face. 

However, both Irihata and Mizoguchi had kept their lips tightly sealed as to who their practice game was against this time. There was a thin air of amusement and anticipation around the adults as the teenagers seated themselves in a semi-circle around the board. Irihata had his arms behind his back, calmly placed in a relaxing posture and a gentle smile on his lips, his eyes conveying all his excitement.

“It’s been difficult to arrange this practice match, and even harder to keep it a secret due to _some_ people’s persistence...” Oikawa guiltily pulled his trademark pose of sticking his tongue out slightly whilst winking and putting up a peace sign.

“I am now pleased to announce that we have found you a worthy opponent, not in a High School team, but in a _University_ team! This practice match is to show off our current skill, as well as showcase our third years. If you defeat them, not only will it increase the potential applicants to Aobajousai, but you may very well be scouted for professional teams.” Oikawa’s eyes lit up and danced, his excitement palpable.

“Who is it?! Is it the University of Tsukaba? They’ve won 8 times since 1997! Or Chuo University?! They were this year’s winners, as well as in 2014, and the most wins since the tournament began! Or- Or!”

“Oikawa, calm down, please~...” Irihata cut him off with a light laugh at the enthusiasm.

“They ARE winners of the All Japan Intercollegiate Volleyball Championship, but their last win was in 2008. Altogether, they’ve won 6 times.” This time, it was Iwaizumi who sat up straighter, breathing out in awe.

“Nippon sport science university...” Mizoguchi nodded in his direction as the rest of the team burst into varying levels of excitement and chatter.

“We did mention that one of our third years had applied there. I think that was the deal breaker that led them to agree. They’ll be keeping a close eye on you, Iwaizumi.” The Ace glanced over to Oikawa with a pang of worry that he may have overheard. After all, he hadn’t told Oikawa that he had applied to different Universities than the setter. Oikawa was far enough away that he hadn’t heard, and Iwaizumi sighed in relief before muttering back to the young Coach.

“I didn’t apply there for the team. I’d appreciate if they’d let me join, but I’m going there for the courses.”

“You’re aiming to become a sports physician?” A flare of determination set itself in green eyes, with a stubbornness that refused to budge.

“Sports physical therapist. _Someone_ has to take care of idiots who overwork themselves.”

“You do realise you’re not allowed to verbally threaten patients into care, Iwaizumi~?” Huffing, the Omega folded his arms and directed a glare to Oikawa as if it was all his fault. The Alpha shuddered under the cold gaze, whipping his head around to search for the source of what had caused that chill down his spine. Before he could locate Iwaizumi as the source, Irihata cleared his throat to demand attention.

“So, Oikawa, what are you thinking of these formations?”

“Well, I’m liking the look of formation three, but we need to swap Iwa-chan and Makki round, so we can...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry for the super long wait - depression is a bitch.  
> Hope you liked this chapter!


	6. Lies and love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Early update to say Happy New Year to all! Here's hoping 2017 is a lil' better for all of us!

The week seemed to fly by in a blink of an eye, Iwaizumi settling into his new dynamic with ease, now that he wasn’t so sensitive. Some things still caught him off guard, such as low Alpha growls and the strong scent of other Omega’s during a difficult class, but he was overall able to ignore his dynamic. 

Iwaizumi wasn’t denying he was an Omega, but he didn’t find it necessary to constantly dwell upon. He was a person first and foremost.

“Iwa-chan~.” He rolled his eyes as Oikawa approached from behind, acting cool around his hoard of admirers. Instead of pouncing on Iwaizumi’s back like he might have done anywhere else, he walked up to him at a casual pace, throwing up one hand as a greeting. He looked superficial to Iwaizumi, the crinkles at the edges of his eyes pulled too tight to be real. It was different from when Oikawa broke into laughter at something Matsukawa and Hanamaki said, or when he gave confident grins to his kouhai. 

This level of fakeness was never seen around the team. Iwaizumi scowled. He partially worried about the strain all this fakery was taking on Oikawa, and partially pissed that he was manipulating people with his brilliant act.

“Hurry up and get to practice, Oikawa.” Maturely, he didn’t stomp, but his posture was demanding and aggressive as he walked away. He heard a whisper coming from the Omega girl hanging off Oikawa’s biceps.

“Isn’t he so rude, Alpha? Surely you could do with a better mate than _that_.” Before Iwaizumi could formulate any response, he heard Oikawa’s low, bothered growl, followed by his voice which rumpled with displeasure.

“Iwa-chan is one of my pack. As much as I may spend time with you because I enjoy the company, a pack sticks together. Whether you think he’s rude or not has no influence on me.” Picking up his stride, Oikawa walked alongside Iwaizumi. A soft nudge to his stomach was a thank you disguised as a greeting attack. He grinned, until there was the sudden reek of embarrassment and a bony elbow rammed straight between his lower ribs.

“Gah! Iwa-chan!”

“Y- You forgot to deny that I was your mate!” The Ace turned and fled with a face as scarlet as rubies, leaving Oikawa hunched over where he was. He was positively baffled by how Iwaizumi had run away from him so uncharacteristically, but it grew into a devious smirk as it dawned upon him the effect he had on the Omega, as well as the response. 

Iwaizumi hadn’t rejected him. He’d been caught off guard, but he had not outright rejected Oikawa. 

Therefore inviting the Alpha to show his intent, and possibly court him. Standing upright, Oikawa strode towards the clubroom with a delightful tune humming through his lips, his beaming smile so large; it felt like it would split his face.

“Yahoo~.” Stepping into the clubroom, he was stunned to see many faces and bodies he did not recognise. He did, however, take note of their athletic build and heights. These were people who had trained hard to build up muscle, and pushed themselves to the limits to stretch their stamina and endurance.

 _’They must be the University team, Nittaidai.’_ A pulse of jealously shot through him when he noticed how well his team was mingling with them, looking up at these university students with the respect and awe that Oikawa craved. All their team had done was show up, strip, and start talking! To Oikawa, that didn’t warrant a specifically grand impression. He moved over to his usual spot, slinging his bag down and started changing. A comment to his left captured his attention.

“Hey, isn’t it weird that they only have two Alpha’s on the team? They can’t be _that_ strong.” Iwaizumi cleared his throat from where he was stood next to them. Apparently, they hadn’t expected this Omega, the shortest on the team excluding the libero, to speak up.

“Actually, we’re a powerhouse school. The only reasons we haven’t reached Tokyo yet are Shiratorizawa and Karasuno.” The brown-haired, hazel-eyed libero from Nittaidai, slightly shorter than Iwaizumi, looked at him with excitement that could rival ‘chibi-chan’, as Oikawa knew Karasuno’s #10 as.

“You’ve played Karasuno~?! My Kouhai are playing them at nationals this year, in Tokyo! How strong are they~!?” Unfazed by the bubbly libero, Iwaizumi frowned.

“They’re strong. We won against them in Interhigh, but the third set went into the 30’s. We played three sets against them in the Spring Miyagi Representatives Playoff too, but unfortunately, I missed the last spike.” There was deep regret in Iwaizumi’s tone. The team knew he still blamed himself. 

It didn’t matter how much Oikawa said about the receives he had missed, the sets that had been too low, or the flubbed serves. It didn’t matter what Kyoutani said about how he shouldn’t have been so reckless when he first entered court, or how Kindaichi wished his blocks had been stronger. Iwaizumi shouldered the responsibility fully. The nearest member of Aobajousai to the Ace was Hanamaki, who reached over the Nittaidai libero’s shoulder and flicked Iwaizumi’s forehead.

“Stop taking the blame! You’re the one always saying it’s the team with the stronger _six_ who win. You might have a six-pack, but that doesn’t count!” Iwaizumi’s blink of astonishment was followed by a bark of laughter.

“Alright, alright, I yield~. Karasuno was just too strong for all of us.” The libero had watched their interaction with eyes of concentration, and then tugged at his mainly blue team shirt. He had picked up on the vibe of their closely knit team, and sensed an aura of strength emanating from this small player in front of him. The Nittaidai colours of red, white and blue drew great interest from Iwaizumi, wondering how he would look in them compared to the white and turquoise he was currently pulling over his head.

“Hey, so, if you missed a spike, you must be a Wing Spiker, right?”

“Mhm. Vice-captain and third year, Iwaizumi Hajime. Nice to meet you. You must be a libero?” There was a tone of amusement in his question as he held his hand out for the enthusiastic opponent to shake. The libero laughed brazenly, giving a strong shake. Iwaizumi deduced that this grip was weaker than his own, but a libero used their arms more than wrists and palms anyways.

“How did you guess that, I wonder? Second year, Chiba Yuusei~. I look forwards to our match~!” The shared laugh between the duo, however polite it may have been, sparked up a jealous flare in Oikawa. This University student, this _Alpha_ , was making a move on HIS Omega. Well, intended Omega, once he gave a gift of intent. Oikawa made his way over to them and slung his arm over Iwaizumi’s shoulders.

“Iwa-chan, you need to put your shoes on so we can go and warm up~! After all, it is a university team we’re playing. We _might_ have to get serious from the start.” His prideful brown eyes set upon the libero with a challenging gaze. He saw delight flickering in those hazel eyes, the promise of a challenge riling up the older. It wasn’t a confrontation over volleyball either. That may have been the context, but Oikawa knew they were truly fighting over Iwaizumi.

Oikawa wanted Iwaizumi as his bonded, as a mate.

This newcomer wanted Iwaizumi as something he owned, a prize.

“Oikawa, what the fuck are you talking about? We always play seriously. If you’ve honestly been slacking off every match until now, I’ll beat your ass into dust!!!” He shrugged Oikawa off his shoulders, the crease between his eyebrows sculpted by irritation. 

Once outside the clubroom, he took a deep breath of fresh air. Being trapped inside a single room with 16 boys had been way too hot, sweaty, and musty. That was before they’d even played a match. Once they were sweating profusely, there would not only be body odour and extra heat, but leaking scents of dynamics would mingle in. 

Exhaling in thought, Iwaizumi made a mental note to tell Yahaba to talk to him afterwards, just so that the Omega’s wouldn’t be caught at the mercy of all those Alpha’s. From what his nose had told him, there had been a single Beta in the Nittaidai team, and the other 6 were Alphan in nature. Strong ones, at that. Stronger than anything he had encountered so far. 

A chill ran down his spine. If they decided to use their scent during the match, Iwaizumi would be forced down to his knees. If he continued to refuse submission from that point, he could be forced into heat, into desiring an Alpha to take him, mark him, knot him. He shuddered with disgust.

“Senpai.” At the soft voice calling him, he realised he had reached the gymnasium steps. As players who would be sitting on the bench until they were needed, Yahaba and Kunimi were setting up the equipment. Iwaizumi took a deep breath and forced the wrinkles in his face to soften, the expression of irrefutable loathing for his status melting into a more familiar mentoring softness. 

“Need some help?” He jogged over to them, grabbing hold of the metal net supports. Yahaba and Kunimi slowly let go, moving their feet out of the way as Iwaizumi single handedly wriggled the post into the correct position.

“There we go. It was off a little to the left and at an angle. Don’t forget, you have to lift these ones right up and drop them in.”

“It was my fault, I dropped it too early. Sorry.” A calloused hand ruffled Kunimi’s hair, paired with an _illegally handsome_ grin.

“You’re six years too early to be lifting these, kiddo. Unless you’ve secretly been doing weight lifting.” His black fringe swept over his eyes as he turned his head away in mild embarrassment. Iwaizumi’s characteristic chuckle lingered in his ears for a moment. Kindaichi had once described it as ‘Tree bark slathered in honey’, which Kunimi had just thought stupid and silly. Now, he found it to be true. There was something addictive about hearing such a small sound that made such a big impression. Especially from someone who was aggressive on and off court.

“I just wanted to help...”

“We’ll be needed your help later on, Kunimi. Make sure you don’t cool off too much whilst we wait for you on court.” The first year perked up, his eyes minimally widening and his lips parting with a light exhale of surprise.

“I’ll definitely get to play?” There was a serious look on Iwaizumi’s face, weighed down with the pressure of whom they were about to face.

“When we’re all exhausted, and our muscles are screaming, that will be your time to shine.” Despite their situation, Kunimi found himself delighted that he would be placed on the court. A cheerful voice, filled with teasing, interrupted their conversation.

“What about lil’ old me~?” Yahaba’s cheekiness was reflected in his small grin, but the only emotion in his eyes and scent was melancholy. In his two years at Aobajousai, the only match he had set for was their practice match against Karasuno. Even back then, Oikawa had stolen the show. Iwaizumi placed a firm hand on his fellow Omega’s shoulder and gave it a light squeeze.

“Depends on how much Oikawa is pissing me off. So far today, he’s been nothing short of unbearable. You’ll get your turn.” The sorrow spread to Yahaba’s smile, his lips twitching into a sad smile.

“Don’t give me false hope, Iwaizumi.”

“I’m not. I mean it. He’s been... Partially limping since earlier today. If he’s pushing it, I’ll personally drag him to the bench.” The secondary setter sighed and shook his head in amusement.

“You two are a nightmare, honestly. I wonder how you’re going to do university without us.” Iwaizumi stumbled as he moved to the other post. It would have been unnoticeable, if Yahaba hadn’t been looking straight at him.

“Iwaizumi...?”

“I- I’m fine!” Before Kunimi could interject as he brought the folded net over from the equipment cupboard, Yahaba grabbed the collar of Iwaizumi’s shirt and dragged him out the back doors of the gym. Iwaizumi didn’t bother to fight back, rolling his eyes as he let the second year lug him along. Yahaba pushed him against the wall with a furious face, his extra centimetres giving him just a little extra leverage. He gave a ferocious snarl.

“You’re not going to the same universities as him? And you haven’t told _any_ of us?! Are you insane, Iwaizumi?! It’s so close to when you graduate, it’s going to break his heart if you tell him on the day!”

“T-Truth be told, I’ve intended to let him know since we first applied for universities... I just never got around to it.”

“You wimped out.”

“No, I never-”

“You were too scared to tell him. You _are_ too scared to tell him.” Iwaizumi kept his mouth firmly closed. He didn’t need to say anything. Yahaba knew. He, being the only Omegan support Iwaizumi had, was instantly able to read his scent and chemical signals. With a sigh, Yahaba released his tight grip on Iwaizumi’s collar.

“Please tell him soon.” The setter-in-training marched back into the gymnasium to help Kunimi attach the net to the poles, leaving Iwaizumi to stand outside, growling down at a small plant that grew between his feet. He wanted to tell Oikawa. He _had_ to tell Oikawa. 

But in every instance he’d tried so far, they’d either been interrupted, or Oikawa had gotten distracted, or he’d had to stop to try and control his scent. Furious with his own hesitation and incompetence, he raised his foot and stomped on the tiny plant, grinding his heel into the dirt until all that remained was a streaked crater and broken bits of something that used to be alive.

“Stupid universities...” He lingered around outside until he heard voices approaching from the distance. Nittaidai, and the rest of Aobajousai, were about to enter the gym. 

Quickly, he stepped inside and made sure he looked presentable. There was already a camera crew set up in the corner, ready to record and broadcast the match on local news. The platforms above the courts were filling with people, and Iwaizumi felt a smile twitch on his lips when he heard Oikawa’s sister and nephew chorus out his name. He gave them a small wave from where he was, before marching over to Oikawa.

“Oi. Get over to our side of the court and help us warm up. Yahaba is already setting for the first years.”

“Coming, Iwa-chan~!” Oikawa jogged over to their side of the net, standing opposite Yahaba. They set some easy balls for warm up, working the spikers towards full power slowly. It would no good at this stage to strain a muscle.

“Nice, Mattsun~! Super sharp, Makki! Watachin?! You’re not meant to spike it!” Iwaizumi tied his laces tighter and shook his head in mirth as their libero just laughed and declared that he felt like it. Yahaba chastised him from his side before complimenting Kindaichi on a nice quick. This was his team, and he loved each and every one of them.

He loved Kindaichi, with his innocent clumsiness and his determination to make his Senpai proud. Even if the kid had flaws with getting stuck in the past, like when he grumbled about Kageyama, Kindaichi was one of those rare people who thought with his heart and then his head. Never one without the other. He truly was as his name translated – Golden number one.

He loved Kunimi, who’s only care in the world was making sure everyone else was okay. He tended to his teammates bruises with tender care, scolded them when they pushed it too far. He’d even on occasion lectured Oikawa for not doing his knee brace up tight enough. Even with his apparent apathy and lack of effort, he still tried his hardest and had fun whilst doing it. Iwaizumi knew Kunimi would look after the team in his absence.

He loved Watari, as cheeky as their libero could be at times. He could lift them up whenever they felt sad, and he surprised the team as often as he surprised strangers. His pranks would never hurt anyone, only amuse, and he had an amazing ability to know exactly how much space to give someone if they needed it. Many times, Watari had been able to wriggle a smile out of Iwaizumi no matter how much he fought it.

He loved Yahaba, with his soft-spoken ways, until he was _pissed_. Yahaba’s anger often took them all by surprise, but it only showed how strong he was. Despite his tendency to grab people by the collar, he was sweet and understanding. Almost like an older sibling. Iwaizumi could talk to Yahaba about anything in the world with grand ease, just as the other team members could.

He loved Kyoutani, who in many ways reminded him of himself. Kyoutani made him feel proud in the way one would over a son. His hot head and short temper could easily land him in trouble, but their newest member was quick to apologize if he actually upset someone. He was gruff, but in a soft way. Mad Dog, Oikawa may call him, but Iwaizumi only saw a tamed puppy that was eager to fit in somewhere. He’d found a home in the volleyball club.

He loved Matsukawa and Hanamaki, who he would undoubtedly lump as a pair regardless of their individualities. Their heavy teasing and complete disregard for what was appropriate always served to amuse Iwaizumi, often to the point of laughing until his stomach hurt. Too many things had been ruined by the Mattsun-Makki duo, and he loved it. Even though he could no longer drink milk without feeling sick, or look at custard without snorting, he wouldn’t trade them in for the world. 

They always had his back, caught him when he fell, or dragged him onwards. Sure, Matsukawa was lazy and cared for very little, but he was an amazing friend when he pulled through. Yes, Hanamaki left little dick drawings _everywhere_ , but he was often the voice of reason and encouragement. Iwaizumi knew they were lifelong friends, and he loved them.

He loved Oikawa. He loved the way Oikawa would nerd out over the stupidest shit, or collect junk that nobody else loved. He loved the way Oikawa still wore glow in the dark pyjamas, and plastered his walls with alien posters. He loved the way Oikawa would squeal with glee when he could see clouds of breath on a cold day, or spun around lampposts badly singing cheery musicals, or stuck his tongue out the corner of his mouth when focusing. 

He loved that Oikawa was smart and _knew it_ , that he was confident and always looked up. He loved that even when Oikawa hadn’t brushed his hair, or wore odd socks; he still let Iwaizumi see him. He loved their weekly Mario Kart death battles, their occasional spats which always ended with forgiveness, they way they were always getting into trouble for doing new things together. He loved that little snort when Oikawa giggled, or the way he cackled like a witch when he found something truly hilarious. 

He loved Oikawa and the history they had together with all his heart.

He loved them. His team, his friends, his family.

“Iwa-chan! Stop goofing off and come hit my balls!” 

There was a brief, two-second, silence. 

It was shattered by Hanamaki and Matsukawa bursting out into squawking laughter, their noises not even human. Watari had doubled over, silently clapping his hands together as his entire body shook with the force of his laughter. Kindaichi had turned his back to Oikawa and slapped both hands over his mouth but Iwaizumi could still hear his muffled choking on air. He was turning a dangerous shade of purple from asphyxiation and Kunimi wasn’t too far off as he bit into a knuckle, a few watery tears of amusement sliding down his cheeks in replacement for sound. Yahaba looked red in the face, from what was poking behind two hands and Kyoutani tilted his head amusedly at Iwaizumi.

The ace was slowly turning a heated crimson, wide eyes locking onto Oikawa, who looked equally shocked with the announcement. It was when Nittaidai and the audience started snickering that Oikawa snapped back into focus and promptly dropped to his knees with a comical wail of anguish.

“This is _NOT_ how I want to be remembered!!!” Iwaizumi was double embarrassed when he realised the film cameras had been locked on Aobajousai the entire time, and that they were being broadcast, **live** across Miyagi. 

He slowly sunk to the floorboards and pulled his knees up to his chest, wishing the ground would swallow him whole. In normal circumstances, he would have stomped up to Oikawa and slapped him round the back of the head, but he trying his hardest to appear mature in front of the University team. A firm, flat hand landed on his shoulder, and he looked up to see Coach Irihata. 

Mizoguchi was rounding up the Nittaidai team to instruct them on where they could refill drinks and which hallway the toilets were down, etc, etc. At least the university team had been whipped back into shape. No doubt Irihata wanted him to bring Aobajousai back under control too.

“Good luck, Hajime.” Somehow, he managed to bring them back to a state where they could stand, bow politely to their opponents, and shake hands under the net. The captains of each team moved over to the referee to see who was serving and who was receiving first.

A coin was flipped. It shined gold under the lights of the Aobajousai gymnasium, before dropping back down to Mizoguchi’s hand. He caught it, and revealed it to the captain of each team, whom stood each side of him. They nodded in agreement, shook hands, and wished each other luck before jogging back to their teams. Oikawa grinned brightly as he stopped next to Kindaichi, tightening his knee brace.

“We’re serving first, go with formation 3.” Formation three started with Oikawa in the traditional setter position, so with one point he would be serving. If they could get this first point, not only would it boost their moral and warn Nittaidai of their skill, but it would put their strongest server in control of the entire game, At least, that's how it went on Oikawa's plan sheet. To get that point however, they had to hope that Nittaidai underestimated them from the start.

“Matsukawa, nice serve!” Unfazed by the tension and pressure, Matsukawa threw the ball into the air and gave it a flat smack as it came back down. It brushed the net, and started to dip. For a moment, Iwaizumi was befuddled when the Nittaidai blockers moved away from it, but then Chiba, the libero, leapt from the back line like a _panther_ and knocked the ball backwards.

“Cover, cover!” #6 hit it up, nice and high. There was no chance to get it to the setter; the ball had to go over on the third hit when receiving a serve. Iwaizumi tensed, feeling Kindaichi do the same next to him. From the left, the captain of Nittaidai jumped higher than they had expected and smacked the ball _over_ their blocks. 

In the almost slow-motion drop back to the floor, Iwaizumi could see the captain smirk. He wasn’t to be underestimated, nor was he going to go easy on them because they were a high school team. Iwaizumi internally cursed, scowling. He knew the ball had easily gone over their block because he wasn’t as tall as Kindaichi. He hadn’t reached the pinnacle of his jump at the same time, allowing the University player a short space to get it over.

“Watari, nice save!”

“It’s low, cover!” Hanamaki quickly formed his arms into a dig and knocked the ball upwards, where Matsukawa gave it a volley to Oikawa, highly controlled and easy to set. Iwaizumi backed as far as he could, ready to run forth as soon as the ball left Oikawa’s hands.

“Iwa-chan~!” A low spike, close to the net but not too close, slow enough that he could change its direction as he wished. His feet pounded against the ground before he felt the tension in his calves, pushing himself off the ground like a spring. He felt the ball hard against the palm of the hand, perfectly nestled there for the split-second before he hit a cross-spike. Away from the libero, away from the captain. 

The wing spiker closest to where he had aimed it lunged, but as Iwaizumi expected, he wasn’t quite as well trained at receives as the rest of them. The #15 on his shirt betrayed that he was a first year, less experienced than Chiba and their #1. Truthfully, Iwaizumi had worried that the freshman would get it, because he was still a year better than Aobajousai. It had been a gamble he was glad he’d taken.

“1-0, Aobajousai.” He turned to his team victoriously and was immediately met with a tight huddle, his hair ruffled to the point of abuse and his back pat firmly by multiple hands. The first point was theirs. Was _his._

“Unbelievable, Iwaizumi!”

“Way to hit Oikawa’s balls!”

“Yeah, keep hitting those balls, Iwaizumi~.”

“Makkiiiiii! Mattsun! Don’t mention that!” They laughed in merriment, and when Iwaizumi caught a glimpse of the warm-up area - just to the side of the bench - out of his peripheral vision, he could see his own excitement had caught on quickly. Yahaba was practically shaking Kyoutani in celebration, who only scowled, but it was lighter than his usual scowls. Kunimi smiled lightly, actually paying attention and sending Iwaizumi a thumbs up. He sent a nod back in his direction.

“Another one of those, Mattsun!” Stepping back into his position, Iwaizumi quirked an eyebrow at Oikawa’s pout.

“What’s wrong with you?” The high-pitch whine was indistinguishable to his ears and he looked at Kindaichi to see if he had translated it. The first year just shrugged with confusion.

“Oi. Trashy Oikawa. Speak Japanese, you miserable idiot.” Oikawa huffed with another whine, scuffing his toe on the ground as the referee blew his whistle for Matsukawa to serve.

“... I forgot we only rotate if we score when the _opponent_ serves...”

“ **That’s** your problem?! You dumbass! Just focus on the game!” He stretched out one of his hands, raised for the block, to smack Oikawa on the shoulder. It seemed to snap the setter out of slump, quickly shaking off his mood to get ready to block. The Nittaidai setter set the ball to almost an impossible height, but the middle blocker opposite Kindaichi jumped, and swung his entire body forth with a whip-like spike. It was too strong to block. Too fast to receive. It left an impact mark on the ground, and a slow whistling sound as the ball started to deflate.

“... Whoops.” Ludicrous expressions turned to the Middle Blocker, who rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.

“Sorry? It was probably too early for that.”

“Too early?!” Was this what they intended to do partway through the game? Was this how they intimidated rivals? Perhaps, this was why Nippon Sports Science University was heading towards the All Japan Intercollegiate Volleyball Tournament once more. If it was a intimidation technique, it worked extremely well. Iwaizumi thought he could see Kindaichi’s knees trembling as he looked at the burst ball. He put a solid hand on the first years shoulder.

“That’s worth about five points we’ll steal back.” Instantly, he stood straighter.

“R-Right! Yes Senpai!” The team echoed their sentiment, knocking their fists together to show their close-knit bonds. 

They weren’t going down easily, no matter how much of an uphill struggle this was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me a fun fact about someone you love~!  
> (Any kind of love, not necessarily romantic or family! I want to hear about your friends, your pets, your fav character! Anyone who makes you happy and warm inside!)


	7. Discovered and Distraught.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A young Alpha is much more likely to accidentally go into an instinctual fury.  
> A newly-presented Omega is sensitive to this, no matter their strength or personality.

16-25.  
10-25.

Aobajousai had been crushed. Obliterated. Broken. The few points they did have were opponent errors, or lucky hits. Oikawa had played until his knee had panged, and then Iwaizumi had forcefully dragged him over to the bench for the second set. Yahaba had filled in, but without Oikawa’s serves, they missed vital points. 

It didn’t seem fair, when they were so exhausted they could barely stand, and the Nittaidai team weren’t even out of breath. They’d made it look so easy, like they’d put in barely any effort at all. Iwaizumi growled from where he was kneeled on the floor, impacting his fist into the floorboards. It was painful. But it burned nowhere near as much as his fury, as his disappointment. 

What he hated the most was how impressed he was. Even when he wanted to hate those University students with all his being, he couldn’t help but look up them in awe. So this was the strength of a nationally recognised University team. A feeling similar to excitement started boiling through his veins.

He wanted to go there.

He wanted to learn how to crush his opponents, how to play so flawlessly, emerge the victor with only a few beads of sweat.

The watching crowd was silent as they filtered away, the TV crew packing up their equipment, and Nittaidai taking the initiative in going to get changed. Oikawa’s heavy breathing gave away the fact that he was crying, a solemn Kunimi attempting to calm him down from the bench. Iwaizumi could smell so many things...

So much pride, so many tears, so much _anger_ , and disappointment and _hatred_. He could smell it all like a thick purple and black blanket smothering his face. It was getting hard to breath. He grasped at his collar, wheezing as he tried to tug it looser, the sensation of being choked imaginary, but the need for oxygen desperately real. His salvation came in the form of Mizoguchi, currently throwing a towel over Hanamaki’s sweating figure.

“Control your scents! All of you are practically swimming in despair! Lift your heads high, stand tall, and declare that you are not defeated!” The choking haze started to lift, and Iwaizumi panted where he was, making no move to get up or even try. His eye flickered over to Yahaba, in a similar condition but with Watari rubbing his back soothingly. He suddenly understood why so many broadcast matches had a couple of members collapse from the losing side. The overwhelming stench made him want to bury his face in the floorboards until he couldn’t breathe any more.

It took a few seconds before he could actually lift his head. Immediately, from the other side of the net, he felt a lingering gaze of hunger. He sat back up and looked over his shoulder. For a mere millisecond, he thought he had seen something predatory in Chiba’s eyes, but then the libero smiled sympathetically and gave a small wave. Iwaizumi nodded in return, as if to brush over the anguish of losing. It had been a match, after all. Someone had to lose.

“Iwaizumi, are you coming?” A hand appeared in his vision. He didn’t hesitate to take it and be pulled to his feet. This was one instance where he was grateful he was shorter than Matsukawa. He could easily rest against his side without looking too much like he was exhausted. The rest of Aobajousai had managed to drag themselves around the visiting Coach from Nittaidai, sitting cross legged on the floor, or slumped across teammates. Iwaizumi thanked Matsukawa as he was elegantly dropped next to Yahaba. He didn’t bother to readjust, hoping the Coach wasn’t too fussed about their posture and appearance. The aging man had his arms folded tightly, looking down at them as if they were nothing more than the dirt on his shoe.

“If you were my team, I’d have you do three hours of receiving, two hours of spiking, and an hour of serving for such a wide gap in the scores.” Before the hearts of Aobajousai could reach rock bottom, the Coach’s expression softened.

“But you are not my team. You are high-schoolers, who show great promise and endless room to improve. With further training, you 9 as a team could stand up to any force. Your blocking is rigid, your spikes are strong, your serves are incredible, and your setting needed work in the second set, but it will take great form. First years, you show overwhelming promise. Second years, you’ve got the form, but you need to train your bodies more. It will be much easier the more your natural body assists you. However, I am most impressed with the third years!” Iwaizumi felt a flickering of hope from deep inside, inhaling with pride. He noticed that Oikawa sat straight up, ready to absorb any praise. Hanamaki and Matsukawa discreetly knocked their fists together.

“I would look forwards to welcoming any of you to the team. Perhaps not as starter players to begin with, but certainly as bench warmers. With the training and utilities that Universities provide, you four could be a force to be reckoned with. Especially #1 and #4.” Green eyes widened. That was him! He and Oikawa were getting special recognition from a _University_ team Coach!

“Captain, you had serves that consistently scored, with immense power and near-perfect control. Your setting was phenomenal. I noticed that you managed to position it where the spiker was most comfortable without fail. Your receives could use work, but you are overall a grand player for any team. We may even have to make an offer for you at Nittaidai!” Oikawa laughed politely, waving his hand to decline the offer.

“Thanks, but I’m heading more for Tokyo University!” The Coach nodded, before turning to look at Iwaizumi.

“In all my years, I have never seen an Omega more suited to be an Alpha than you. That strength you carry could one day rival Endo.”

“Wait, Iwaizumi could burst a ball?!”

“With the correct training and mental fortitude. There is no doubt that if you get into Nittaidai, we would gladly accept you on the team.”

“I’ll try my hardest, Sir!” As best they could from their positions, Aobajousai gave a thanking bow to the visiting Coach, before he returned it and stepped back over to his own team. Instantly, Iwaizumi was aware of Oikawa’s glare fixed upon him. He whipped his head around to the brunette, perched on the bench with his bad leg extended out, and arms folded huffily across his chest.

“You’ll try your hardest, Iwa-chan. You’ll get into Nittaidai and be accepted on the team.” The words sounded supportive, if not for the mocking tone, painted with venom that Oikawa adopted as he spoke the words, sneering down at his best friend. In response, Iwaizumi growled. His upper lip curled and he bore his canine teeth.

“Yeah? So? I didn’t put down all the same options as you. I can go to any University I like.”

“What did you put? In order.” Iwaizumi nibbled on his bottom lip. He was highly aware that all eyes were on him.

“First choice, Kobe University – Faculty of rehabilitation. Second choice, Nippon Sports Science University. Third choice, Yamagata Prefectural University of health sciences.”

“None of those are the same as my choice, Iwa-chan! When were you going to tell me you were _abandoning_ me!” That drew a snarl from Iwaizumi, feeling fire building in his veins.

“I wasn’t aware I was your _babysitter_! I can go my separate way if I want!”

“But you didn’t tell me!”

“I was going to!”

“ _When?!_ Our exam results come back next **week**! We graduate in just under two!” Iwaizumi inhaled sharply. He knew that. He _knew_ that, and yet when Oikawa said it, it sounded even shorter than he expected. It felt like a looming deadline, like a march up to the guillotine.

“I-...” He choked on his words. Was speaking ever this difficult before? Why couldn’t he make the syllables come out? Why was there no sound? Oikawa stood with threat in his posture, moving right into Iwaizumi’s personal space. His longer fringe brushed Iwaizumi’s forehead, his breath swarmed around Iwaizumi’s nose, and everything that flooded him was _Alpha, Alpha, Angry, Alpha, Bad Omega, Alpha..._

“You were never going to tell me, were you? You were just going to leave, to abandon me. You wanted to suddenly disappear and satisfy your own selfish needs. What kind of friend are you?!” _What kind of Ace am I?!_ The same insecurities from back then hit him like a punch to the stomach. The poisonous Alpha scent choking him... The clenching in his chest... The sharp, unsettling pain that had soaked into his muscles. It made him feel sick. No, wait... He was going to be sick. Oikawa was yanked back just time, an Omegan snarl reaching Iwaizumi’s ears before he hunched over and promptly vomited onto the gymnasium floors.

“Iwaizumi!”

“Senpai!” Before he could fall forwards into the mess, supportive arms wrapped around his midsection from the side to hold him up. Iwaizumi found himself stumbling sideways into Kindaichi instead, but that was better than his knees dropping into the expulsions of his own stomach. 

He attempted to whisper a thank you, but the sensitive organ on the roof of his mouth could only pick up the haze of aggression Oikawa had left in his wake. He retched again, but there was no more to spill. He was sure someone was speaking to him, but all could hear was a high-pitched ringing and a low vibration, like a trombone. 

Everything hurt. His legs were worn from running and jumping, his arms and shoulders ached from every spike he’d hit, his lungs screamed for air and his _head_... It was so painful. Every single thought he’d ever had was crammed into one loud noise, a hive of wasps that stung on every beat of their wings And at the same time, it was empty. It was desolate silence that threatened to give way and have his skull collapse inwards.

Hanamaki and Matsukawa exchanged a worried glance, watching their team fall to shreds. The close-knit bond seemed to have been torn apart by _words_ , stupid sentences strung together in anger, without thought, and spoken with a harmful intent. It wasn’t on purpose. They knew that. 

They could see how much Oikawa was hurting with the sudden revelation that his best friend was leaving. But they knew the amount of hostility he had thrown into the words was unnecessary, the rejection of having Iwaizumi that close far too forceful. Most of all, he had been suffocating their ace with Alpha scents. A fatal mistake, which could cost the trust he’d formed over so many years.

Kindaichi was looking at the pair with desperation as he held Iwaizumi on his feet, and Kunimi was crouched down beside him, trying to get some sort of response from their hyperventilating Ace. 

Yahaba had Oikawa by the front of the shirt, ferociously growling, which seemed to have shocked Oikawa out of his own aggression. Kyoutani was glaring at him from the side, ready to lunge forwards should the Alpha try anything. Watari looked between the two groups in confusion, his Beta instincts shouting at him to help, but _who_ was he supposed help?!

“... Jan-ken-po over who deals with Oikawa and that tussle?”

“You always win that.”

“Exactly. Good luck, Makki.” With a hint of a self-satisfied smirk, Matsukawa nodded at Hanamaki and then quickly moved over to the first years and Iwaizumi. He brushed a hand towards Watari as if to sweep him in the direction of Oikawa’s little fray. With an nod, the libero moved over to help out there. Matsukawa exhaled, stepping clear of the vomit to kneel in front of Iwaizumi.

“Hey. Hey, it’s okay. Look at me...” There was no additional movement to his already heaving chest and desperate gasps for air. Kunimi hesitated in rubbing his back.

“We need to get him out of here, don’t we?”

“Yeah. Good thinking, Kunimi.” Slowly, he reached up until he was practically pressed against Iwaizumi. Only then did Kindaichi let go, letting all of the weight slump against Matsukawa. He was careful in how he supported Iwaizumi, picking him up off the ground in a fireman’s lift. 

It was common for an Omega who’d been overwhelmed by an Alpha’s scent like that to go catatonic until they were removed from the threatening situation. It seemed Iwaizumi was no exception. As Matsukawa expected, the first years followed him out the gymnasium doors, and as far as the picnic area next to the main school building. 

He placed Iwaizumi down so that he sat up on the table part, his feet on the bench. This way, if he fell forwards, Matsukawa would catch him. If he fell backwards- Kindaichi moved to sit with his back to Iwaizumi’s, preventing him from falling that way. Kunimi was the only one who actually sat on the bench, resting his elbows on the table top.

“How long will he be like this?”

“No idea. Could be a few seconds, could be an hour. Probably the latter, seeing as this is the first time he’s been oppressed like that.” The confusion of the first years was clear. Matsukawa sighed. Of course they wouldn’t have learned about this yet – It was only taught at the start of second year, when Beta’s began to present.

“An Alpha’s oppression can only be inflicted on an Omega in two situations. One; The Omega is a threat to the Alpha’s family. Two; The Alpha is furious, and hurt. Not even physically hurt, it can be emotionally too, which is precisely Oikawa’s predicament. That’s why Makki and I aren’t too mad at him for using it. He’s hurting bad.” Kunimi frowned as he watched the rise and fall of Iwaizumi’s chest, breathing still laboured yet significantly closer to normal than before.

“Doesn’t that seem stupid? If the Alpha was really angry, they could kill the Omega... Or what if someone forced the Omega into heat whilst they’re like this?”

“The killing point, true. That’s probably the reason the Oppression scent evolved. However, this is the single Omega state where they can’t be forced into heat. You’ll learn about this in second year.” A groggy groan arose from the Ace, his body shuddering as he shook off the effects from Oikawa’s unintended attack. Matsukawa blinked, eyes widening.

“You came back to the land of the living quicker than expected.” A string of jumbled curse words followed, thrown in Matsukawa’s general direction as he coolly watched Iwaizumi try to regain some sense of where he was. He looked around, face scrunched up before he sneezed. Kunimi leant back in disgust at nearly being coated by mucus. If he’d been two centimetres forwards... Iwaizumi doubled over where he was perched as sneezes began to rack his body with the force of convulsions. It didn’t stop the swearing, muttered out between each aggressive sneeze with growing agitation.

“FUCK!” Everything went quiet for a meagre couple of seconds. An itsy-bitsy _adorable_ sneeze followed in its wake. Kunimi couldn’t hold back a snigger and Matsukawa burst out into laughter, especially as he could directly see the plain disgust on Iwaizumi’s features, at being able to create such a dainty sound.

“Iwaizumi! Iwaizumi, that was p-perfect! Ha! Who knew you could be so endearing?!” If Iwaizumi could move properly, he would have giving Matsukawa a mighty thwack around the head. He settled for a ferocious Omegan snarl, and showing the middle blocker his middle finger.

“Senpai, are you alright?” He huffed out, turning to face Kindaichi. The only one who hadn’t laughed at him and had actually shown _concern_ for his well-being. He gave a tiny smile to the first year.

“I’m okay now. Thank you for worrying, like **some** people aren’t.” Kunimi gave an apologetic shrug, but his amusement still showed in the creases at the corners of his mouth. He never would have thought he’d hear such a cute sneeze from a strong, stern person like Iwaizumi. Maybe it was an Omega development. He hummed lightly in thought.

“I wonder why you were sneezing though.” Once again, Matsukawa butt in, with valuable information. For someone who seemed to never pay attention in class, he had definitely researched hard on Alpha and Omega business.

“To clear any lingering Alpha scent from his nasal passage. Like that time we filled Kyoutani’s locker with dust and he couldn’t stop puffing air out his nose in irritation.”

“I fucking _knew_ that was you. Kyoutani still thinks it was Watari.”

“Nah, that was me. Me ‘n’ Makki were competing to see who could cause the most disruption to a single practice.” Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. He should have known. Tentatively, he shuffled off the edge of the bench and stood shakily. He narrowed his eyes in the direction of the gym where Oikawa - _‘Alpha’_ \- remained. Iwaizumi wanted nothing more to go in there and shout at the asshole for rendering him in a comatose state. 

A small part of him, however, stung with great emotional torment. He’d never intended for Oikawa to find out that way. He’d never intended to make his best friend hurt, to make him angry, to make him _cry_. 

In the instant before had vomited, he’d seen the watery cloak over Oikawa’s eyes, the twitch of his lips into a broken frown, his teeth clenched and jaw tight. He’d seen those ugly lines of despair and pain and loss settle into Oikawa’s forehead, pulling around his eyebrows and the bridge of his nose. It had only been for a flash before his stomach had imploded upon itself, but Iwaizumi had seen just how broken Oikawa had been by the unintended confession.

By the fact that Iwaizumi was going in a different direction.

“Oi, Iwaizumi. Don’t try to push yourself too far.” He inhaled deeply, steadying himself on his spaghetti legs.

“It’s fine. I-... I need to talk to him. Properly talk.”

“Yeah, you do. But you should probably let Yahaba finish whooping his ass.”

“Ah, right.” Iwaizumi didn’t question why their secondary setter would be opening a can of butt-kicking on the captain. _Everyone_ , even children, knew that Omega’s were extremely protective over one another. Even if the other Omega was a complete stranger, whoever had hurt them would be subjected to pure, disorganized fight from the ‘weakest’ dynamic. It would be an attack of fury, either with fists or words. 

To send an Omega into a stunned or injured state in front of their _support group_ was just asking for the death sentence. Part of Iwaizumi hoped that Oikawa’s pride would be too ruined to stick around and talk with. The rest of him, most of him, wanted to sit down opposite Oikawa, cup his cheeks with his hands, and softly explain his choices. The reasons he had chosen those Universities. The motive behind leaving all his friends.

_‘All my friends...’_ It hit him like a freight train. He wasn’t just leaving Oikawa. It was also Hanamaki and Matsukawa. He hadn’t told them either. He looked over at the middle blocker, his face clearly distressed. Matsukawa wasn’t even looking over at him; he was talking with the first years. But Iwaizumi could suddenly see how his arms were folded too tight, his fingertips digging into the flesh of his upper arms.

Oikawa wasn’t the only one hurting.

Matsukawa and Hanamaki would be hurting too.

Because he was leaving. He was leaving and he hadn’t told them. He hadn’t told anyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and Kudos feed my family... Please... We are starving...


	8. Hugs and iron.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is where it gets nasty. :)  
> Buckle your seatbelts for angst and injury.

Cross-legged on the gymnasium floor, Oikawa hung his head low in shame. Yahaba paced angrily up and down, all his words used, and a sharp slap across Oikawa’s face, but the Omega was still not sated. His instincts cried for him to unleash all the pent up frustration, all that rage, to direct it towards the Alpha who had used _Oppression_ on a relatively new Omega, and Yahaba’s support group. 

The only thing holding Yahaba back from doing so was the knowledge that hurting Oikawa would only reflect upon Iwaizumi, who would end up taking care of the Alpha. That was, if their friendship hadn’t been shattered in a single instance. Loyalty and trust, Yahaba decided, were fragile things that wore down with time. There were ways to strengthen it, but there were also ways to destroy it. In not telling Oikawa, Iwaizumi had brought this upon himself. It was his fault, if their long-standing friendship did not survive. 

Yahaba’s sharp snarl tore through the gymnasium and bounced off the walls once more, echoing in the moderately empty space. He saw Oikawa flinch, heard Hanamaki sigh, felt the concerned gaze of Watari, and finally, became aware of Kyoutani’s hand enclosing around his upper arm. It wasn’t a gentle hold, nor was it antagonistic. He wanted to shrug it off before his fury boiled and he attacked this Alpha too. But then-

“Shigeru.” His name was said so quietly, like it was more of an exhale than a word. It was tinged with gruffness, and Yahaba couldn’t help but feel the coolness of a wave of calm sweeping through his veins until it no longer felt like they boiled. He opened eyes he didn’t realise he’d closed, and looked directly at Kyoutani.

“Sorry. I’m okay now.” The wing spiker nodded, quiet as ever. Even though Kyoutani often riled others up, his presence was undeniably calming for Yahaba. The setter took another deep breath, held it, and then exhaled slowly. It felt similar to the tingling sensation of mint, as his anger vanished out the window. Slowly, he stepped over to where Oikawa was sitting miserably on the floor.

“Senpai? I’m sorry for slapping you. Can you forgive me?” Oikawa looked up, a pitiful sight to see. His bottom lip jut out in upset, and ugly tears streaked his face, with puffy, inflamed eyes and leaking snot. Iwaizumi had been right every time he accused Oikawa of being an ugly crier. Even Yahaba had to fight back a cringe.

“I deserved it, Yahaba-Chan...” Yahaba chewed on his bottom lip, not saying anything. Nervous glances came from where Watari was cleaning up the mess left behind, and Hanamaki stared off towards the open gymnasium doors like he was in another world. Kyoutani’s piercing gaze watch the setter pair’s every move. No doubt, he was suspicious of Oikawa using Oppression again. With a deep sigh, Yahaba moved to sit opposite Oikawa, their knees touching. Those brown eyes followed every breath of his lungs, every twitch of his muscles.

“Can someone pass a tissue, please?” Kyoutani grunted and headed towards the bathrooms. He came back only fractions of a minute later to heavy silence, with a whole roll of toilet paper in hand. He felt a flicker of pride as Yahaba softly huffed in amusement, taking the toilet roll.

“Thanks. We might need all this.” He pulled off a hefty amount and folded it, dabbing at the area around Oikawa’s eyes and down his cheeks. The toilet paper saturated easily, so he pulled off a new wad to hold over Oikawa’s nose.

“Blow.” The third year pathetically obeyed. At least now, his face was returning to somewhat less like a kicked, run over sloth. His scent was changing too. He was no longer begging for sympathy, but just naturally sad, tinged with regret. Yahaba neatly wrapped the tainted tissues in more toilet paper before pushing them to the side.

“You did deserve it, yes. But only for reacting the way you did. Oikawa, he’s been too hesitant to tell you because he doesn’t want to ruin these last few weeks. I mean, that’s ruined now, but... He was trying to let you have a happy graduation. All _three_ of you third years.” A small huff of disagreement came from Hanamaki. Yahaba looked at him blankly.

"Do I have to slap some sense into you too?” He grumbled a ‘no’ in response, shifting his body like a moody toddler that’d been confined to the naughty step.

“Then start listening as well.” Hanamaki shuffled around to face them instead of fixing his vision on the door to outside. Yahaba took a moment to focus, to think about what he was going to say. He placed his warm hands on Oikawa’s legs in a supportive gesture.

“If you knew he was leaving, you’d treat him differently, wouldn’t you?”

“W-Well, yeah... I’d want to make as many memories as possible, a-and let him know he’d be missed, and would try not to make him angry and-.”

“That’s exactly why he didn’t tell you. Iwaizumi doesn’t _want_ to be treated differently, just because he’s leaving. I think... I think he kept it to himself so that things would be as normal as possible.” Oikawa’s eyes widened, his mouth forming a small ‘oh’ in realisation. Iwaizumi was a man of routine and normality. He _definitely_ wouldn’t want things to change or be treated differently. A childish whine pulled itself from Oikawa’s throat.

“How comes you worked this out first? Iwa-chan is my best friend, I should have known!” Yahaba softly laughed, reaching out and wiping away the last of Oikawa’s tears.

“It’s an Omega thing~.” Hanamaki just pinched the bridge of his nose, looking uncharacteristically stressed. For 6 years, he’d been on the same team as Iwaizumi. They hadn’t gotten along at first, only putting their rivalry asides for matches. Back then, the arm wrestling had been brutal and born out of hatred. 

It was after their third loss to Ushijima, when they were 14, that Hanamaki had finally relented and started talking to Iwaizumi. He’d been shocked by how pleasant and polite the gruff Wing Spiker was off court. It hadn’t been long after their first proper conversation when Matsukawa and Oikawa had decided that they could safely all sit together at lunch without any murder. 

Once they got into Aobajousai together, the four had stuck like glue in spirit and soul. It was often joked that outside of classes, you never find one alone. Wherever one of their quartet went, another was right by their side. They were seen either in pairs, or as a four.

Hanamaki was hurting too. Not in an angry way, but more of an upset sulking way. He was close to Iwaizumi. He was going to miss him too. The _betrayal_ of not being told something so important stung. He knew that he and Matsukawa were going to seperate Universities to Oikawa and Iwaizumi, but hadn’t expected for those two to go different ways. They were inseparable. Or so Hanamaki had thought. He pushed himself off the floor with a wobbling frown.

“Hanamaki-Senpai?”

“B-Bathroom.” He scurried off before the others could catch up to him, shutting himself in a cubical. He had both feet up on the closed toilet lid, arms wrapped aroung his legs as he buried his grumpy face in his knees. For a long time, he remained that way. He stretched out one leg when he could feel pins and needles tingling deep within his muscles. Hanamaki jolted when he heard the door to the toilets open and close again. He hissed at the sensation his pins and needles caused as it pulsed.

“Takahiro?”

“Issei...” The cubical door bounced lightly as a sturdy back rested against it, Matsukawa’s shoes visible from where Hanamaki perched.

“There’s a hug fest going on in there and you’re missing out.”

“Urgh, how homo.”

“... We _are_ homo.”

“I know. I want to join in. Just so I can flatten Iwaizumi like he deserves.”

“Pfft. Only until he begs for mercy, alright?”

“You always know how to make me feel better.” Hanamaki slid from his ‘throne’, unlocking the cubical door. Matsukawa didn’t bother to step forwards, smirking as he fell backwards with his weight against the door until he was crushing Hanamaki between the door and stall walls.

“Issei! Holy shit, you’ve gained weight!”

“Muscle mass~.”

“ _It’s probably all that ass you eat._ ”

“Rude. I prefer dick. You should know.” They snorted in unison, Hanamaki wriggling his way out from where he had been flattened and spinning on his heel to pin Matsukawa there. They wore matching smirks, even as their foreheads touched and Hanamaki pinched over Matsukawa’s scent gland.

“Good thing I already planned to come over tonight.”

“You’ll be _coming_ over alright.” Hanamaki couldn’t hold back his snickering, lowering his head to Matsukawa’s shoulder to muffle his amusement as the middle blocker pat his back in a teasing manner.

“Issei, holy fuck. You’re a menace.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Now get your fine ass out there and smooth over this University shit.” As Hanamaki pulled away, Matsukawa leaned into him and just softly brushed their lips together. He lowered his voice to a deep, husky whisper.

“We’ll renew our bite marks tonight. I think it’s time we let the others know.”

“Pretty sure they already know we’re together.”

“In the dating sense, yeah. Oikawa may have figured out we’ve bonded, but I don’t think even he knows we’re mated yet.”

“Huh. 1000¥ says he’ll screech if we just show up with evident bite marks.”

“I’m not betting against that, ‘Hiro~. It’s pretty much a solid calculation.” Hanamaki hummed lightly in thought, still rubbing his thumb over Matsukawa’s gland. Their relationship was give-and-take, neither one of the Beta’s putting themselves as ‘wearing the trousers’. They were truly equal, and probably still would be even if they weren’t the same dynamic.

“Alright. Let’s go dogpile some nerds.”

“ _Fuck yes_.” Hanamaki didn’t hesitate to jog through the doors with a guttural war cry and fling himself into the fray of his teammates. Kyoutani had taken the first chance to escape the touchy-feely fiesta, and Kunimi had wisely stepped away as Hanamaki launched himself forward, dragging Kindaichi back with him. Yahaba shrieked as he rolled away, leaving Iwaizumi and Oikawa to suffer Hanamaki’s attack on their own. 

A pity for Iwaizumi, who had been pinned to the floor by a glomp of Oikawa’s.

“No no no no NO NO _MAKKI NO_ -!” Oikawa had moved into a crouching position to look up and moved out of the way just in time to witness Hanamaki bellyflop onto their immobile Ace. Iwaizumi’s frantic protests were cut off with a strong groan that echoed in the gymnasium. He pushed a swear word through his clenched teeth as his lungs fought to fill themselves after Hanamaki had knocked all the wind out of him. 

At least, he thought that was all the air. He was proved wrong once again as Matsukawa sauntered over, whistling deviously, and then sat down on Hanamaki’s back, squashing the two beneath him. Oikawa seemed to love the idea. He cackled and moved closer before Iwaizumi lowly growled at him, baring his canines. Nobody had ever seen Oikawa move backwards faster.

“Aww, Iwaizumi, you’re not gonna let Oikawa sit on you~? Thought you’d be into that kind of thing!” Hanamaki laughed loudly following the statement as Iwaizumi turned an interesting shade of red. A robust punch was delivered to his thigh, the only place Iwaizumi could reach in this awkward, flattened position.

“G-get off me. Can’t b-breathe.” Matsukawa elegantly rose to his feet and took three steps away to offer Hanamaki a hand. However, he simply wriggled to adjust himself and allow Iwaizumi to breathe whilst remaining draped over him. 

Iwaizumi didn’t bother to fight it, just lying against the cool wooden floor. His shirt was still soaked with sweat from the match, his muscles still protested movement, and it felt good just to lie still.

“So you’re going far away from all of us, huh? Finally ran out of patience?”

“... Can you let me explain before you jump to false accusations?”

“Right-O. But you’d better explain _good_ , because I am so pissed off with you for not telling us earlier.” Hanamaki detected a wisp of apologetic scent before it vanished, forced to stop leaking.

“I-... I have a very set goal in mind. None of the Universities you guys are going for offer the course I need.”

“That doesn’t explain why you didn’t tell us, Iwaizumi!”

“Shut the hell up, I’m getting there!” Iwaizumi drew in a sharp breath through clenched teeth.

“Because you idiots would make it seem like a funeral for the rest of time until graduation. You’d treat our time together like it was fragile, like there was something to cherish. Yeah, you guys are my best friends and I love you, but you’re also a bag of dicks and that’s how I want to remember you. Not for being overly sappy or tender or _careful_ in the last few weeks.” Sweet silence met his words. He almost panicked until Hanamaki flicked his forehead.

“Excuse us, but who’s the sappy one? You literally just said _’Oh, you guys are my best friends and I love you and lets weave flowers in our braided hair as we frolic through fields’_ , then called us a bag of dicks. That is the best compliment I’ve ever received.”

“Same here. I agree, he’s the sappy one.”

“Iwa-chaaaaaan~! You’re so cute!”

“Oh, fuck off.” He rolled his eyes, swatting at Hanamaki again, but a small smile tugged at his lips. 

This time, Hanamaki complied with removing himself from Iwaizumi’s ribcage. He sat on the floor next to him and leant back against him, elbow perched on his stomach. Matsukawa plopped himself cross-legged on the floor next to them, waving Oikawa over. 

The setter didn’t hesitate to run and skid next to Iwaizumi, landing perfectly in a cool position, his cheek perched in one hand with that stupidly sexy smirk, his other hand perched on his hip, and one leg drawn up slightly. He exhaled minty breath over Iwaizumi’s face before speaking.

“Paint me, like one of your French girls~.” Three flat hands impacted his face at once, all attempting to cover his mouth. Matsukawa ended up with the palm of his hand pushing Oikawa’s nose up into a piggy nose, and Hanamaki was furthest off with his fingers tussled in Oikawa’s fringe. From years of practice, Iwaizumi was spot on, covering Oikawa’s mouth without even looking.

“Th’ i’n’t faaar! Ma’’iiiiii! Ma’hun! Ehwa-haaan!” His distorted speech and warped whining had Yahaba burst into laughter, with Watari shortly following. Kunimi quietly chuckled whilst Kindaichi pressed his lips tightly together to try not to let any sound escape. 

Attempting to hold it back only meant it built up until he let out an ugly guffaw that sent the third years into hilarity along with all their underclassmen. Poor Kindaichi blushed hard enough that he could have fried an egg on his heated face. 

None of them heard or noticed the gymnasium door open.

“The Nittaidai group have left the clubroom if-... What are you idiots doing now?!” Mizoguchi stared in dismay as the team fell apart right before his eyes. They were acting more like _6 year olds_ than teenagers. He sighed heavily. There was no point trying to communicate properly with them when they were like this. 

Kyoutani seemed to be the most composed, snickering behind a hand. Mizoguchi tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention and then relayed the massage that the clubroom was empty, they should go and get changed and cool down before they got sick or injured. Kyoutani nodded gruffly.

“I’ll tell ‘em once they’re... Half-sane again.” Mizoguchi nodded before departing. As he closed the gymnasium door again, he couldn’t help but huff out in amusement. 

Although he respected their hard work and dedication, Mizoguchi often worried that having these teenagers working out so hard would destroy their youth whilst they still had it. He himself could hardly remember a happy memory from when he had been put through his paces in a high school volleyball team. To see the team, _together_ , acting so carefree and young, put his mind at ease. 

These kids were great, they had the ability to balance everything. Well, Oikawa occasionally needed to be reined in by Iwaizumi, but he was still alive and happy.

“Hey, Coach-san!” Mizoguchi was about to sternly lecture whoever had referred to him so disrespectfully until he realised it was one of the players from Nippon sport science university. If he remembered correctly, the Libero. His name on the reference sheet had been... Chiba? 

Still, Mizoguchi narrowed his eyes. Something about this... _Character_ gave him a bad vibe. It was twice as intense as when he had seen Oikawa’s dramatic personality change on and off court. His Alpha instincts warned him to be wary.

“Is something not to your liking? How may I help?”

“No, no! Everything’s great, I swear~! You got some cushy facilities here, for a high school.” Chiba smiled at him the picture of innocence, but Mizoguchi couldn’t shake the suspicions. He wouldn't trust this visitor as far as he could throw him.

“Then, you’re here because...?”

“Oh, yeah! I was wondering if I could speak to Iwaizumi. Y’know, seeing as he’s applied to our university and all~.” Alphan protective instincts reared their head and Mizoguchi barely fought down a growl. _“These aren’t your kids, these aren’t actually your kids, **stop** trying to guard them like pups.” _

“He’s inside, but the team are, ah, having a moment. You might not want to interrupt.” Mizoguchi knew that if he could scarcely hold back from reacting to this Alpha as a threat, Oikawa certainly would not. Especially not if he was targeting his closest friend, who happened to be an _Omega._

“Aww, that’s a pity. Our bus is about to leave. Can’t you just call him out here? I mean, you are the Coach.” There was a challenge in those words. 

Alpha pride, his bare _instincts_ cried for him to accept the challenge and put this intruder to shame. Mizoguchi knew it was a cheap trick. He knew he was being fooled into it. That it could be dangerous. But his Alpha pride was too strong to deny, physically painful to ignore.

“Wait here.” He re-opened the gymnasium door, pleased to see the hooligans had calmed down from their hilarity. All eyes turned to him this time, although Kyoutani did look a tad confused.

“Iwaizumi. Can you come out here a second please?”

“Yeah, sure Coach.” He scrambled to his feet, purposely stepping on Oikawa’s stomach to cross the hall with a smirk as he heard Oikawa’s whinging behind him. He’d be fine, just temporarily winded. Green eyes widened a fraction as he stepped outside and saw Chiba.

“Can I help you?” Bouncing on his feet, Chiba swung an arm over Iwaizumi’s shoulders.

“You were so great today! Amazing! Impressive! I never would’ve expected to see your talent in a high school gym!” Chiba started to walk and Iwaizumi’s body naturally followed, keeping the contact with this Alpha. A faint blush started to rise to his cheek, only worsening when he realised _‘Holy shit, he can see my blush like a florescent sign at night.’_

“Thank you, I guess... It wasn’t enough though.”

“You stupefied our _Coach_. Tanojima is literally impossible to impress, he never even smiles! I saw when he was talking to your team, he was super amazed with you in particular!” Iwaizumi rubbed the back of his head, opening his mouth to speak before he stumbled to a halt. 

Chiba had stopped walking. 

They were in a quiet little place, a tree behind each of them and shrubbery surrounding the small stony circle. Those hazel eyes which sparkled with excitement were suddenly heavy and meaningful. Iwaizumi found he couldn’t speak, his own eyes locked in contact, until Chiba slowly blinked, his smile turning from an overexcited puppy to a softer, enrapturing expression.

“To be honest, I was amazed by you too. Not just at volleyball, although that is when you look your best. You’re good-looking, strong, and you have this aura of _”don’t interfere”_ , which I really like. I guess, what I’m tryna say is... Well... Seeing as you’re coming to our school next year, consider this a gift of intent.” Chiba reached out and took Iwaizumi’s hand, laying it flat before placing a piece of paper in his palm. He gently enclosed Iwaizumi’s fingers around it and then stepping back. 

Iwaizumi swallowed, a little bewildered yet ever so calm. He didn’t recall a time when he ever felt this peaceful, like the ocean had dropped its tides for the intention of silence. He thought, perhaps, it could be awe, or maybe happiness from the praise he’d been given. It... It felt almost like hope... Like he was losing his grasp on weak threads and then being thrown a sturdy rope.

“I- I don’t know what to say. There’s no guarantee I’ll get into Nittaidai anyway, and an _intention_? I- I’m not rejecting it straight off, but-.” He stopped. _But I already have an intent from an Alpha closer to me._ He didn’t. 

He hadn’t... He hadn’t rejected Oikawa’s _show_ of intent, but Oikawa had not given him a gift. He hadn’t reacted on the blindingly obvious invitation. Chiba hadn’t waited for an invitation. He’d taken the initiative and made the first move. It had only taken this second-year Uni student a few hours to think up a gift.

“But...?” Iwaizumi peeled open his palm. On the paper, there was a phone number. Chiba’s mobile. He was extended a way to stay in contact until they could meet again, and a means of getting to know him better before Iwaizumi accepted his proposal. It was respectable, something Iwaizumi couldn’t bring himself to deny. He exhaled heavily.

“I may reject it in the future. There’s someone else I’m waiting for, but... If he hasn’t given me an intention gift before graduation, I’ll... Let you know.” Chiba’s smile once more grew to an excited grin, and Iwaizumi found himself reflecting it with a half-smirk. 

The piece of paper felt hot in his hand as held it close to his chest, feeling his heart pound as he laughed at one of Chiba’s jokes on the way back.

“I’m sorry to leave so soon. Give me a ring, or a text ASAP, okay~?”

“I- I will.” He would. He found himself liking this Alpha. There was something trustworthy in his eyes, and Iwaizumi found himself longing to hear his voice more, to see his smile more, to be brought to laughter by him. It felt like, in that small time, he’d felt exactly what was missing from all his failed relationships. 

A connection.

“Come to Nittaidai, ‘kay~?! Bye, Hajime!” His Omega instincts leapt for joy. Hearing his name, _first name_ , said by a strong, impressionable Alpha... It was like his Omega was calling for him to bond, or at least mark him.

“Until next time, Yuusei.” The name fell from his lips with ease, like he was supposed to say it. It wasn’t as smooth as ‘Tooru’. It didn’t have the same chocolate-y taste, or stir up the same warmth, but it drew forth a fondness. He watched the libero board the bus and promptly receive teasing punches from his teammates as he sat down, before the bus moved off.

“Iwaizumi!!” He jolted at the panic in Mizoguchi’s voice as the Coach came jogging over. Two firm hands were placed on his shoulders and he raised a startled brow in question. 

Mizoguchi shouted at them a lot, and gave them harsh training, then passed them water bottles and towels, but he _never_ made physical contact of any sort. Not even when he’d worried about Oikawa’s knee during practice. There was a wild unrest in the Coaches eyes, until they rested on Iwaizumi’s tightly enclosed palm.

“... What did he do to you? Did he hurt your hand? You _**reek**_ of Alpha scent!” Iwaizumi frowned in displeasure, eyebrows tightly drawn down as he tried to figure out why Mizoguchi was making such a fuss.

“He just... Gave me a gift of intent? Nothing else happened. I- I don’t understand why you’re so concerned.”

“Iwaizumi, he _waited_ until I was checking on the others to guide you away. That sort of behaviour is extremely suspicious! I hate to say it so blandly, but you’re an Omega. You can’t afford to be led away by unknown Alpha’s!” Something within Iwaizumi fired up. He couldn’t help it. 

He would have reacted with a calm anger anyways, but something churned within him and he abruptly stepped away from Mizoguchi, hitting away the hands that had been on his shoulders.

“Are you saying I’m naive?! Because I’m an Omega?! I _know_ I’m an Omega, okay?! I know it, and I hate it, I _despise_ it! I’m still the same person I was! Presenting hasn’t made me stupid, or blind! I get that I’m a _filthy, low-life, whore of an Omega_ , but I’m not fucking dense!”

“I- Iwaizumi! That wasn’t what I was saying-! Iwaizumi!” He snarled before breaking out into a run towards the abandoned clubroom. 

He had the key. He could lock it from the inside. And as far as he knew, the rest of the team were still pulling themselves together in the gymnasium. The entire room shook, the lockers rattling, as he slammed the door shut with enough force that part of the wooden frame cracked slightly. Jamming the key in the lock, he twisted it and it broke. Iwaizumi threw his broken half of the key across the floor, leaving the actual head stuck in the lock mechanism. That would stop them trying to break in. 

He paced up and down the clubroom, occasionally dropping onto the bench in frustration before getting up and pacing once more. Out of pure spite, boiling up over the Coach’s words, he sent a text to Chiba so the University student had his number.

"I’m! Not! Naive!!! Stupid, _stupid, **OMEGA**_!!!” He threw his phone aside and punched a locker, the metal caving beneath his knuckles even as they hurt. Most likely bruised. 

The door rattled, the handle attempting to be opened. Iwaizumi paused, breathing hard in the empty clubroom. It was too early for anyone to show up. He hadn’t cooled off, he hadn’t calmed down. He was still furious.

“... Iwa-Chan? I know you’re in there, I can smell your distress from here. What’s going on, are you okay?” There was that question again. _“Are you okay?”_ , like he wasn’t able to defend himself, like he was weak enough to need checking up on every few minutes. 

Just because of his dynamic. 

His canines bore themselves and his fists clenched at his side as he faced the door and shouted, spitting the words out with enough fury to consume him.

“I’m fine! Leave me alone!”

“Iwa-chan, can we just talk?” Iwaizumi was about to shout a plain, simple, ‘no’, until he thought about it. Oikawa didn’t carry any kind of hesitance in his voice. It didn’t seem like he was going to treat Iwaizumi like he was a fragile, delicate Omega that needed protection and caution. He reached for the door, until...

“... I broke the key. And the lock.”

“Hajime, Hajime, Hajime~. What are we going to do with you~?” He scowled lightly, but there was no threat to it. How could he pose any realistic threat to Oikawa? They were best friends, and when Oikawa said his first name, it was like he was falling in love all over again.

“First things first, _Tooru_ , you’re going to get me out of here. Then we’ll talk.” There was a soft rattling before Iwaizumi’s half-key dropped out at his feet. The door swung open, Oikawa grinning deviously as he held up a small silver pin.

“Hairpins. Never leave home without them~.” Iwaizumi scoffed, noticing how Oikawa’s eyes flickered from his scuffed knuckles to the destroyed locker door, but the Alpha didn’t say anything. He waved his hand fashionably in the air, wafting himself with a cool breeze as he dropped onto the bench with one leg crossed over the other. He opened his mouth to speak before his face twisted in disgust. 

Iwaizumi almost thought his scrunched up nose was cute.

“Iwa-chan! You _reek_ of overpowering Alpha scents!”

“For fucks sake, the coach just said that too.”

“Because it’s true.” Oikawa actively sniffed the air as he leant closer to Iwaizumi, not even bothering to hide it. He gagged in repulsion and then his eyes widened, pushing himself from the bench and quickly marching over to Iwaizumi’s locker. They knew each other’s codes, so he quickly opened it and threw Iwaizumi’s towel at him.

“Oikawa, what the-!”

“Go shower! Now! That Alpha scent on you is an exceedingly stronger version of what I use on my adoring fans!”

“What?”

“It draws the attention of Omega’s, and at that strength, controls their desire to bond! Whoever did this to you was trying to force you into mating with them, no matter how subtle it seemed!” Bile rose in the back of Iwaizumi’s throat. 

_That_ was why he felt a ‘connection’ to Chiba? Because he was being _**manipulated**_?! In a trance, he threw off his shirt and shorts, storming into the showers and throwing his towel on the shower rack violently. Over the hiss and roar of the shower, he could still hear Oikawa.

“I’m gonna go ask Coach to wash your stuff in the staff room, then I’ll be back! Don’t slip, Iwa-chan~.” He grunted in response, scrubbing at his skin with blunt fingernails, focusing on the areas where Chiba had slung his arm, laid his hand, or pressed his fingers against Iwaizumi’s gland. 

The more he dug his fingertips in, the more he could smell the dreaded Alpha scent Oikawa had been talking about. He firmly closed his mouth so the scents wouldn’t reach his Jacobs organ, turning his head away to breathe. Iwaizumi wasn’t too sure what effect this fragrance-induced haze would have on him whilst _Chiba, fucking Chiba,_ was far away. 

He cursed his vulnerability. Pausing where he was, he let a dark thought flit around his mind before it escaped in a whisper.

“... If only I hadn’t been an Omega...” Pressure built up against his neck as he dug his blunted fingernails into the scent gland, a _stupid_ patch of skin that leaked _stupid_ scents, flaunting that he was a _stupid **Omega**_. How far down did the gland penetrate? Was it possible to remove it? If he did, would that revert him back to an Unpresented?

No, there was more to it.

Dynamics first came about when genetic scientists reactivated the Jacobs organ function. He’d need to remove that too, from the roof of his mouth. What about the gonads that produced slick? The multiple secretion areas around his thighs and crotch? It _had_ to be possible to get rid of them somehow. Surely, if he just suffered through it, he could do it himself? 

It was worth any amount of pain to be rid of this Dynamic drama.

To not be an Omega.

“Iwa-chan, I’m back!” Oikawa entered the clubroom with flourish, once more going straight to Iwaizumi’s locker to retrieve his school uniform that he could change into after drying. He hummed lightly, a cheerful and common tune, with the shower as his backing music. Oikawa’s nose twitched. He paused, brows knitting together with confusion.

“Iwa-chan, can you smell copper?” He stuck his nose in the air and inhaled slowly. It wasn’t a surrounding or suffocating scent, but more like a thin wispy trail. A few meagre threads that he could fortunately follow. For some reason, the copper fragrance brought up the image of red.

“Iwa-chan? You didn’t answer me. Hey, it’s coming from your direction... I’m coming into the shower area, okay?” All doors to the showers were opened, and Oikawa frowned with a tilt to his head as he realised the red threads, the copper scent, led into one of them. 

Was the metal of their new shower heads rusting already? Copper did smell remarkable similar to iron, and oxidation had been the reason the old shower heads had been replaced. Iwaizumi still hadn’t replied to him, but there was one sure-fire way to illicit a response. Even if it would invoke fury and he’d probably get a punch to the shoulder.

“Iwa Iwa!” Nothing. Now, he worried. 

The red flashed in his mind once more, but it was thick and congealed, almost like...

_’Blood!’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ever had a better compliment than "Bag of Dicks"?  
> What was it?


	9. Frantic and bleeding and distraught and-

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THIS CHAPTER IS POTENTIALLY VERY TRIGGERING.  
> If self-harm, blood, or descriptive injury can trigger your anxieties and the like, please skip to the end notes for a brief description of what happened. It is not necessary to read this chapter if you feel it could upset you.

“Iwaizumi!!!” He skidded across the dampening floor as he followed the threads, eyes widening as he stared into the very last shower cubicle. The door hadn’t even been closed, out of Iwaizumi’s desperation to wash, to rid himself of Alpha scent. Oikawa silently thanked that logic, which meant he didn’t have to break any locks.

Iwaizumi stood under the powerful stream of the shower, carving lines into his skin with his nails and tearing flesh as he attempted to dig deeper. He should have been in far too much pain, after initially breaking the skin. People in their right mind would stop at that point. 

But something told Oikawa that Iwaizumi wasn’t in a safe mental state. It may have been the way his eyes were completely dilated yet horrifically blank, or the way his head lulled away in one direction, allowing his fingers to scratch at his scent gland slowly but compulsively. Like he was a machine, programmed to move only that way. The rest of his body was limp, yet he somehow stayed standing. 

It was reminiscent of being in the changing rooms after losing to Karasuno. After his anger had worn off. When _“What kind of Ace am I?!”_ had faded and distorted into _“What’s the point of trying?”_

But even back then, he hadn’t been **harming** himself.

“Iwa-... Hajime? Hajime, can you hear me? H-Hey... Stop that... Stop it!” Oikawa moved forwards and grabbed Iwaizumi’s elbow, pulling it towards himself. 

The rest of Iwaizumi followed, crashing against Oikawa like a ragdoll. 

The jarring halt snapped Iwaizumi out of it, and instantly, he was hit by the consequence of what he had done. He clasped a flat palm tightly over his gland, over his injury, screaming with agony. Tears forced themselves from his eyes, and his voice caught in his raw throat until he was making no sound, silent in his torture.

“Hajime, Hajime, shh... It’s going to be okay, it- Shhh... I’ve got you, you’re safe, shh shh Shhhh...” Oikawa held him as close as possible, wishing his embrace could protect Iwaizumi from the demons inside himself, from the pain he was suffering, and all that had happened.

They were both soaked by the shower and blood, Oikawa’s clothes sticking to him and his hair lying flat like a birds nest in a monsoon. That didn’t matter. Nothing but Iwaizumi mattered in that instance, trying to calm him before he went into shock or something similar to cardiac arrest. He nuzzled right into Iwaizumi’s cheek, platonic kisses provided in abundance all over the side of Iwaizumi’s face as he tried to calm his best friend. 

It was all he could do, and nothing seemed to be working until the noiseless screams broke into a choked sob. It was followed by splutters and coughs and cries that wracked Iwaizumi’s body with spasms, his raw throat catching and clenching as he wheezed between each sound.

It sounded worse, it sounded so much worse, but Oikawa could sense that Iwaizumi was calming down, that the pain was numbing and the blood loss tiring him. Gently, he rocked from side to side, still hushing Iwaizumi with his gentlest voice. He felt the spasms turn to shivers despite the heat of the shower that still hailed upon them. 

Oikawa looked around desperately, cursing that he had gone on ahead and told the team to take their time because _this was happening and there was no-one to go for help_.

“It’s going to be okay, Hajime. It’s going to be o-okay...” Oikawa didn’t know when he himself had started to cry. But he did know that suddenly, over the shower, he could hear _footsteps_.

“H-HELP! Somebody help!!!” Distinct voices, Hanamaki and Kindaichi, coming straight towards their position, into the changing rooms.

“In the showers!” Hanamaki came through first, his face immediately paling when he saw the duo, and he stuck his right arm out to stop Kindaichi coming close enough to see. In a troubled voice, he calmly gave instructions.

“Yuutaro, go and find one of the Coaches, tell them to call an ambulance _immediately_.”

“S-Senpai?”

“Go! Now!” The first year grasped the desperation of the situation despite having seen nothing but the haunted look on Hanamaki’s face. He stumbled as he took off at full speed, heading to the teachers’ lounge where Irihata would most likely be updating their record sheets on how they had done against Nittaidai. 

Having watched Kindaichi skid out of sight, Hanamaki crouched next to Oikawa with urgency.

“What happened?”

“I- I could smell copper, so I followed it and Iwa-chan was-! He-!” A heavy whimper left Oikawa’s lips and Hanamaki placed a hand on his shoulder supportively.

“He did this to himself?” Wet fringe slapped the bridge of Oikawa’s nose as he nodded. Hanamaki looked back at him with the same disbelief and disturbance as when he’d first seen them like this, but he broke it off with a small sound of frustration as he stood and leant over to turn off the shower jet stream.

“Warm water isn’t going to help. We need to get some pressure on the wound. Where is it?” Oikawa looked at the tan hand Iwaizumi had clamped over his gland, pressing forcefully enough to turn the surface underneath his fingers white. Tendrils of red ribbon trickled from beneath the flat palm in beads that the water droplets stole and washed away. 

Hanamaki took off his shirt, shuffling closer. He leaned across them, one arm round the back of Oikawa to the rest on Iwaizumi’s shoulder, and the other latching onto Iwaizumi’s wrist from the front. He was uncomfortably close, had it been any other situation. His lips even brushed Oikawa’s crown as he mumbled quietly.

“Hold him still, I’ve got to try and pry his hand off.”

“Okay.” Iwaizumi was stronger than both of them. That had been proved through numerous loving ‘beatings’ (Actually very controlled and gentle, never left bruises) and copious arm-wrestling contests. 

But he was distraught and in _excruciating_ agony. He was still shaking beneath them and bordering on hyperventilation, edging closer to going into shock with every passing second, every millimetre of blood lost, and every twinge of pain.

“I’m pulling his hand off in three, two... One!” At the same time, Oikawa tightened his squeeze and Hanamaki forcefully wrenched Iwaizumi’s hand away from his injured shoulder. The Ace squawked where he was as he feebly tried to fight back, still lost in the haze of his own mind. The hand that had been holding Iwaizumi’s shoulder, Hanamaki’s shirt pressed against his naked skin, moved to press the Aobajousai team uniform into the weeping, open damage. 

He’d only seen the result of Iwaizumi’s scratching for a split second, but it was enough to make him turn away with a gag as he pressed a hand over his folded shirt, already starting to turn a pink through the layers of material.

“That’s gonna need stitches. Holy shit, it- It’s like he was _trying_ to see how far he could go.”

“Makki.” Oikawa’s head had dropped, his still dripping fringe covering his eyes from view, but Hanamaki could hear the solemn seriousness in his voice and knew that Oikawa would undoubtedly be close to breaking down.

“Yeah?”

“His gland... He’s attacked the gland...” With a glance down a soft inhale, Hanamaki realised that Oikawa was correct. It gave him a feeling of dread, a chill that nestled down his spine and made him shiver.

“This Omega thing is really messing him up...”

“What do you expect? All- All his life, he’s been preparing and _expected_ to present Alpha. Even his **parents** always called him ‘our little Alpha’, and Iwa-chan always lit up. He- He wanted to be the strongest Alpha to make them proud. Even if he doesn’t say it himself, he’s so beaten up by this; it’s like losing to Tobio-chan and Ushiwaka ten times over in the same game.” Oikawa’s voice wobbled. With a sigh, Hanamaki pulled the setter in towards him.

“Then we’ll just have to teach him it’s not the end of the world. As his friends, it’s our duty.”

“Mhm... He’s taken care of us all this time. Now we need to give something back.”

“Glad you see it my way~.” He ruffled Oikawa’s hair comfortingly and tightened his grip on Iwaizumi’s wrist, a reassuring squeeze.

“Takahiro? Oikawa? What- Is that Iwaizumi?!” Thick eyebrows raised in astonishment as Matsukawa walked in upon the scene. He’d seen Kindaichi running from the clubroom like he was the last hope of a secret spy mission, but he’d never expected to walk into something like this. Oikawa gave a restrained whimper.

“Issei, can you make sure nobody else comes in? I stopped Kindaichi seeing, but there’s no guarantee the others won’t.” Matsukawa nodded, moving to the clubroom door, but continuously returning to peer down the shower isle with frantic worry.

“You sent him for help?”

“Yeah, told him to get Coach to ring an ambulance.” Looking back at Matsukawa, Hanamaki’s expression begged him not to ask questions on the matter. Oikawa was barely holding himself together, and that was only because he had Iwaizumi on his lap, depending upon him. He nodded in understanding. 

Whispering doubts made him wonder why he hadn’t seen this coming. If this could have been stopped, had he been a better Beta, a better friend. Leaning against the doorframe, he tensed when he heard voices approaching. Luckily for him, it was Kindaichi and Irihata. The Coach followed behind the first year with a sense of desperation, his face going red from running all the way from the staff room. It had been a while since he’d done that.

“Where is he?”

“Shower stall. Oikawa and Makki are with him.” He stepped aside to let Irihata through, but when Kindaichi tried to follow out of concern, he stuck his arm across the door and sadly shook his head.

“B-but-!”

“You did great going for help, but believe me, you don’t want to see this.” Kindaichi relented, taking a step back so that his back was against the wall in the hallway. His voice came out, quiet and anxious.

“I didn’t see what was going on... Are Oikawa-Senpai and Iwaizumi-Senpai going to be okay?” A sense of nausea built up in Matsukawa’s throat but he swallowed it down. 

He could lie. He could try and smooth it over, tell Kindaichi everything was going to be okay and there was no need to worry. He locked eyes with Kindaichi, picking up on the unease there. There was no way he could lie. He had to be honest; the kid at least deserved that.

“I don’t know. If they are, it’s going to take time.” Kindaichi nodded, turning his attention to his shoes with a whispered ‘okay’. His hands clenched in his pockets, stress turning into fretfulness. Not knowing made it worse. Like standing on the edge of a cliff and wondering if the ground beneath you was crumbling. A firm hand landed on his shoulder, squeezed reassuringly.

“Keep it together. It’s not all up you, okay? Don’t put blame on yourself; you didn’t know it was going to happen. Hell, I doubt even Iwaizumi knew himself.”

“That applies to you too, Senpai.” Matsukawa blinked. Those heavy words, spoken so innocently, struck at his very core. 

It was true... Why was he blaming himself? How could he have stopped it? Something like this was unprecedented. Oikawa, Iwaizumi’s best friend, hadn’t even seen this coming. 

_Nobody_ had. A huff of amusement left Matsukawa’s nostrils.

“True. Thanks, Kindaichi.” The first year gave a half-hearted smile, glad to have somewhat helped out. There was still turmoil in his stomach, a churning of unknowing. He wanted to know what had happened. He wanted to know if he going to be okay. He _had_ to know if his upperclassmen were going to get through this unscathed. At least, there had to be something else he could do...

“Is there anything more I can do to help...?”

“We can’t let the others up here. Especially Yahaba, he’ll go batshit. And the walls are so thick, we won’t be able to hear the ambulance siren.”

“I- I’ll go wait outside!” With a sense of purpose, Kindaichi walked off. Matsukawa sighed, running a hand through his dark, curly hair. It was bad enough that Iwaizumi was hurt, and that the rest of the third-years, including himself, were stressing out, but to involve a first year in their mess would be unforgiveable. Even the second years didn’t deserve to have these sorts of responsibilities thrown upon them. They’d already seen bad situations, when Oikawa had further injured his knee in a match and required an ambulance escort to his physician.

That had been an accident.  
Hanamaki’s desperate glance and fearful Beta scent had told him that this wasn’t.

From inside the clubroom, he could hear low voices murmuring with worry, Irihata trying to get a grasp on the situation and Oikawa stumbling over his distressed explanation. Hanamaki filled in where he could, but he hadn’t arrived until Iwaizumi had already been restrained. Matsukawa listened, determined to _know_ how they had ended up in that state. 

When they had finished, he felt his heart sink, squeezed by two hands in painful seize. 

Iwaizumi had done that to himself... All because he was an Omega instead of an Alpha. It didn’t sound like such a big deal put like that, but it _was_. The whole course of his life had potentially been altered by one fateful presentation.

“Y-Yahaba, please wait! Matsukawa said-!”

“I don’t give a damn what _anyone_ said! He’s calling for Omega support, and I’m not letting any of you stop me!” Matsukawa swore under his breath and quickly shut the clubroom door before jogging down the hallway. 

He didn’t get very far until Yahaba came around the corner, dragging Kindaichi and Kyoutani with him. Each of them were latched onto an arm each, heels digging into the carpet in an attempt to stop him, but Yahaba was an Omega on a mission. 

Nothing short of death would prevent him answering Iwaizumi’s instinctual call. An injured Omega would, even if they tried not to, leak a scent that could permeate for miles. Only their support group could smell it, but it was a summon that was never ignored. For decades, Omega’s had been saved by this simple evolution.

“The ambulance is on its way, he’s safe.” Just as Matsukawa was speaking, he could hear the distinctive siren floating through the open door. He sighed with relief, fixing Yahaba with an understanding look.

“He’s safe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ
> 
> For those who skipped to the notes: Iwaizumi injured himself by attempting to remove the gland, but Oikawa luckily intervened before it became fatal! Hanamaki, Matsukawa, and Oikawa are good friends who responsibly called an ambulance, Kindaichi is a good kid, and Yahaba was ready to murder someone, if the ambulance hadn't interrupted him.
> 
> Hope you're all enjoying H&H~!


	10. Checkerboard pain.

Black. Heavy, uncomfortable, black. A strangling sensation around his neck, accompanied with this weightlessness like he was floating, even though his body felt like a mass of lead.

White. Sharp, piercing, white. A stabbing sensation in his head, accompanied with this pain that set his blood on fire, even though his eyes leaked water.

Iwaizumi varied between these two states for what felt like the longest time. He never really knew when one led to another, but they were the only two things he could register. Sometimes there was a foggy grey, with voices he probably should have recognised and a dull ache. That didn’t happen very often. Mostly, it was the black, occasionally, it was the white. At least, that was how it had always been since he could last remember.

Peeling open his eyes, he groaned as he saw nothing but white. He hated this state- It was always the most painful. He much preferred the black state, even if it was tied in with breathlessness and an inability to breathe properly. But then something changed. Across the white, he could see criss-crossing grey lines. There was no sharp squealing in his ears, but a steady beeping. The fog in his mind was easing; he could finally _think_ and remember-

Oh. He remembered. Even with very little fluidity and mostly grogginess, Iwaizumi managed to raise his arm to touch his neck. His fingers brushed against soft material and for a moment, he thought it had all been a dream and he was still at home studying, wearing a hoodie. As he regained focus, however, he realised it wasn’t the softness of well-worn clothes, but instead the gauze that was placed over deep injuries. Ah. That would explain the white, and the beeping. He must be in a hospital.

“Ngn...” He felt the skin on his neck stretch as his jaw moved to try calling out that he was awake. It _scorched_ , like the flesh was slowly corroding itself with embers and acid. Iwaizumi bit deep into his bottom lip with guilt. He’d done this to himself. He’d let the Alpha scent control him. He’d let the doubting thoughts erase his self-conscious. _He’d done this to himself in front of his friends._

He knew Oikawa had seen, he remembered his soft embrace, his voice. He knew Hanamaki had seen, the fragrant Nutella and cotton lingering his his nostrils and a firm hand gripped around his wrist. He knew Matsukawa had seen, the tender rumble of his voice memorable, and the sound of his footsteps solid, like his back.

After that, Iwaizumi had fallen into unconsciousness. He didn’t know if anyone else had witnessed him like that, or even how he got to the hospital. It was a chunk of nothingness that he would never recover, seeing as he hadn’t been awake for it in the first place. Iwaizumi groaned again, dropping his hand back to his side instead of pressing it against the gauze on his neck. His hearing was similar to being submerged in water, and his head swam. From his jumbled mind, he managed a lucid thought. _‘I must be on some strong medication. **Really** strong.’ _

“You awake?” He blinked his eye open once more, trying to ignore the sting in his irises against the harsh hospital lighting. Turning towards the voice he thought was familiar, he first saw a blotch of disorderly colours that possibly formed the shape of a person. Cream, white, and lilac melted together in a huge smudge, with a smear of deep burgundy red. He pieced together that it was the school uniform colours, before forcing himself to look up at whoever-it-was, so he could see their face. His neck twinged painfully as he tried to lift his head and he grimaced.

“Try not to move too much. You don’t want to tear the stitches.” Gruff. That was the first thing Iwaizumi distinguished about the voice. It brought forth the image of pinecones, which seemed remarkably tough on first impression but were soft underneath.

“... Kyoutani...?” An affirmative grunt reached his ears. He sighed in relief, glad it wasn’t anyone _annoying_. He couldn’t deal with that right now. As much as he loved his best friend, Oikawa had no volume control and very little understanding of _“please shut up, I am in pain.”_

“How long- Ngn!- How long have I been...?” He trailed off, unsure of how to describe his hospital stay. Incapacitated? Unconscious? Whatever it was, Kyoutani seemed to understand.

“Near two weeks. You had t’ have surgery.”

“Fuck...” He clumsily lifted his arm to brush his fringe backwards, feeling it cling to his forehead with cold sweat. His lack of coordination from the anaesthetic effects led to him accidentally smacking himself in the face. Kyoutani snickered and Iwaizumi somehow managed to show him the middle finger of his other hand whilst he kept his palm pressed to his forehead. It felt warm, mildly above average. The clamminess didn’t help either.

“Oi, Kyoutani, open a window or something.”

“Why should I?”

“Because I’m fucking immobile.” Grunting, the Alpha rose from his position over to a small window probably large enough to shove a teddy bear through. Or a vase. Catching sight of flowers on his bedside, that was exactly what Iwaizumi wanted to do.

“Satisfied?” His gaze drifted back to Kyoutani slowly, peering out the corner of his eye. He’d have clearer vision if he could turn his head, but his gland was already burning and stretching and painful and-

“You’re leaking distress signals.” _‘Shit.’_ Carefully, Iwaizumi reeled it back in, trying to ignore the way it made every scent gland in his body light with a fire that merely mimicked the true agony in his neck gland. Every molecule of scent he drew back ground against his gland like a chainsaw to a bark. It cut, jagged and torturous. Of course, Iwaizumi knew that was only a simile to how it felt, and that he was not furthering his injury at all. That did not lessen the suffering.

“If it’s hurting, stop already!” Kyoutani growled, a low Alpha sound that showed how displeased he was at the way Iwaizumi was pushing himself far too far. The reverberating sound made Iwaizumi want to snarl back, but in his current state, he was weak to Omegan instincts. He slumped his body against the hospital mattress as he fought to regain the breaths he had forgotten to take. 

Kyoutani hitched his shirt up over his nose to block out the strong distress signals. Having not mastered control over his own Alphan impulses, if he was overwhelmed by the distress signals, he could react badly. Potentially, he could become aggressive to anyone that approached the injured Omega, even if they were a nurse coming to help. 

Alternatively, he could be drawn into pinching the gland, a gesture that usually calmed a distressed Omega. In their current situation, where it was the gland _causing_ the reaction from Iwaizumi, that would be a disastrous predicament.

“Wh- What are you doing here anyways? Shouldn’t you be at school?” He rolled his eyes. Iwaizumi was _such_ a mother sometimes, no matter how much the Ace protested it.

“School finished an hour ago.”

“Club, then.”

“We’ve been taking it in turns to dit- To come and watch over you.” Iwaizumi scoffed in amusement.

“If you’re using this as an excuse to ditch, I’ll make you run heartbreak hill **twice**.” Kyoutani scowled with annoyance at the poor joke until he realised Iwaizumi was 100% serious. Guiltily, he looked away, but mumbled under his breath.

“Fine. I’ll do it tomorrow.”

“Nah, leave it until I’m out of here. I’ll supervise to make sure you actually do it.”

“That means you’ll have to run it too.”

“My record is 6 times. Good luck.”

“You have **got** to be lying. Most athletic clubs use it as a measure of how far they can get up without stopping.”

“Anything’s possible with the right training. Oikawa trains for setting and serves, Makki trains game sense and general skill, Mattsun trains read blocking and analysis, and I train endurance and strength. Pick something and stick to it, that’s how you succeed.” One the outside, Kyoutani said nothing, just giving a simple nod. 

On the inside, however, he pondered how much work his upperclassman had put purely into volleyball, what the limits were and if Iwaizumi was anywhere near them, and more importantly; _‘How can I surpass him? What do I need to do to be better?’_ His gaze dropped to his hands, examining the calluses there. For someone so bad-tempered and violently explosive, Kyoutani’s hands were remarkably soft. Or so they had been, before he started this volleyball shit.

Never before had he devoted himself to a sport, for long enough to gain roughness to his palms and blisters on his fingers. He even found himself enjoying the sport he had once mocked for being weak. Volleyball had been an outlet for his anger, a grand obsession. But he had focused it around himself. Joining Aobajosai had given him a _team_. 

This new found determination and loyalty was startling, but he took it in his stride and accepted it with a cool attitude. Oikawa seemed to be the only one who could see straight through him, unsettling him. He instinctually avoided Oikawa because of that fact, plus how peeved off he could get around Oikawa’s silliness off-court. In his mind, Iwaizumi was the one deserving of captain.

“... You gonna ask about the others?” For a solid twenty seconds, Iwaizumi just blankly stared at him. No, stared _through_ him. It was unnerving, but Kyoutani reminded himself that Iwaizumi was currently high as a kite on morphine, scent repressors, and a mixture of pharmaceutical drugs. The thought made him snicker, and at the sharp sound, Iwaizumi shook his head to clear off the haze.

“Huh? Kyoutani? When d’you get here? No, wait, we’ve had this conversation. Shit. Hold on, let me focus.” Taking a deep breath in, Iwaizumi closed his eyes and held the air longer than he probably needed to. Fighting off the drowsy confusion wasn’t easy, especially as more drugs were being injected into him via the IV line. Eventually, he managed to get his thoughts relatively straight.

“Right. Last thing I remember, I was threatening you with heartbreak hill. Did I ask about Oikawa? Hanamaki and Matsukawa? First years? Second years?” There was Omegan concern laced in his voice, a strong desire to know if his pack was functioning without him to guide it, protect it. He started to sit up, only the scrunching at the corner of his eye betraying the intense pain he felt. 

Kyoutani gave a small growl, low enough to get the message across for Iwaizumi to ease up, whilst not being overly dominating. Iwaizumi’s lip twitched up in a defiant snarl, but he slowly moved to lie back down on his side, (not his injured side), and quieten for the response.

“First years are fine. Yahaba’s stressed but fine. Watari is fine. Third years are fine.” Rolling his eyes, Iwaizumi snorted and scoffed.

“So fucking eloquent. Try using more than... Two descriptive words.”

“There’s nothing else to say. We’re continuing with practice as normal because, as Hanamaki put it, you would _‘kick our asses to the moon’_ if we dare slack off in your absence.” A small laughter broke forth, followed by a muttered ‘ow’ as the motion stretched at his abused gland. 

“He’s right, y’know. I’ll have to thank him later. Oikawa hasn’t been overworking, has he?”

“Hn. Not in the gym. I dunno about casual practice.” Kyoutani pulled his phone out, checking the time. Practice would have ended 6 minutes ago, meaning the others were on their way. Over the time Iwaizumi had been in the hospital, the first string players traditionally came as a group to linger, chat, and play board games for roughly an hour, before all but Oikawa would leave. 

Sometimes, Matsukawa or Hanamaki stayed with him. Whether that was for their own state of mind, or because Oikawa had had a bad day, Kyoutani didn’t know. This whole ‘friendship’ thing was new to him. 

“Hmm. I’ll find out from him directly.” Kyoutani said nothing. It was awkward. He was only just getting used to having conversation with teammates, when they were all jovial and knew what was going on. Speaking to his Senpai, in a hospital room, when mentioned Senpai kept losing tracking of the conversation? 

It was weird and uncomfortable. Bedside etiquette was not something Kyoutani had ever thought he’d need. Perhaps if he was quiet long enough, Iwaizumi would forget he was there and just fall back into slumber...

“Oi.” No such luck. He grunted, turning back to look at Iwaizumi. The Ace had his eyes closed, relaxing as to not strain himself.

“You said I had surgery. What surgery?” 

“About 10 stitches on your neck. Plus some internal stuff to the gland. Ask a nurse, I don’t know.” 

“There’s a fucking chart at the end of the bed, Kyoutani. Read that.” He didn’t dare disobey, not when Iwaizumi’s voice was heavy with insistence. Taking his hands out of his pockets, Kyoutani moseyed on over to the clipboard at the end of the bed and tilted it up so he could read it without removing the papers. They were extremely important, he didn’t want to drop them and get the order messed up.

“... This is illegible. Who the fuck has such bad handwriting? What the fuck are these codes short for? The fuck?”

“Watch your fucking language.” Kyoutani snorted and rolled his eyes with a hint of amusement.

“It’s all in doctor idiom. I can’t translate.”

“Ah, it was worth a try. Thanks, Kentarou.” He blinked, astonished at the sound of his first name, but Iwaizumi was already drifting back into his medicine-induced haze. Unsure of what to do, he slunk back to the chair by the bedside and hunched over, pretending to play games on his phone whilst just blankly staring at the screen. 

Being on first name basis usually meant the two involved were on family terms, extremely close friends, each other’s intended, or a parent and _pup_. Kyoutani’s lips drew up into a scowl, but he couldn’t bring himself to hate the term too much. His eyes wandered back to Iwaizumi and he grunted lightly.

“.. M’not a pup...”

“Suuuure you’re not~.” He whipped his head back to the door where Hanamaki was leaning against the doorframe with a smirk on his face, the _asshole_ , and Matsukawa leered over his shoulder. He could hear snickering from the hallway, slowly feeling his face heat up with the audience.

The others started filtering in with their usual ruckus, setting up a small table to play Shogi or Go on. Which game they were playing depended on whether Kunimi or Oikawa brought the board in. 

Today, Kunimi carried the brown bamboo box that contained all the playing pieces for Shogi. Kindaichi preferred not to get involved, sitting by the window and watching the hospital courtyard. He would often interject with statements if there was someone down there. Most commonly, he’d be saying _“Are you **sure** they’re allowed to smoke?”_ Matsukawa sat himself in the plastic chair on the other side of Iwaizumi’s bed, slumping over with his chin on the mattress. Just beside him, Oikawa would sit on the bed and lie back over Iwaizumi’s feet. How he could be comfortable like that was anybody’s guess. 

Hanamaki dragged some spare chairs in from the corridor, one for him and one for Kunimi as they intellectually challenged each other. Watari leant on the back of Kunimi’s chair, offering advice where he could. (Not that Kunimi needed it much; his brains were probably the best out of all of them.) Kyoutani’s gaze further dropped to the floor as Yahaba came to lean against the wall next to him, the small smirk on his face showing mischievous objectives. 

“So... What was that about not being a pup~?” Kyoutani scowled under his breath, the hairs on the back of his neck rising like hackles. Yahaba softly cuffed him round the head as he started to leak scent. Kyoutani mumbled under his breath.

“Hm? I didn’t quite catch that.”

“Yeah, speak up Mad Dog-chan~!” He directed a glare towards Oikawa before mumbling once more, just loud enough for Yahaba to hear.

“Iwaizumi-Senpai called me by first name.” Yahaba laughed softly, loud enough to fill the room, but nothing close to the loud laughter that any of the third years would have produced.

“I had a feeling this day would come, but I expected it to be one of the first years, honestly.”

“... Hn.” Yahaba nudged Kyoutani with his elbow, a knowing glint in his eyes.

“You don’t really mind that much, do you?” The Wing Spiker answered with a half-hearted shrug and looking towards the wall. Yahaba hummed in thought, standing up straight. It took a mere three seconds for him to suddenly gasp and spin back round to Kyoutani, grabbing his shoulders and slamming him against the back of the chair.

“You said he _called_ you that?! He was _**awake**_?!” The shock of Yahaba pinning him against the wall, _‘Wow, this is familiar’_ , stole the words from Kyoutani’s throat and he simply nodded. All eyes were on him now. As soon as he nodded again, more confident, so that they could see, the room erupted with noise. Oikawa’s shriek was louder than anyone.

“Why didn’t you say that first?!”

“You never asked.” A dramatic groan pulled itself from Oikawa’s lips, head thrown back in exasperation. Before he could start on a lecture about telling people important things without prompting, a hand latched around Oikawa’s wrist.

“Shut... The fuck up... Trash bag.”

“Iwa Iwa~!” His cry of joy became a sharp cry of pain as Iwaizumi dug his nails into Oikawa’s soft wrist. The Ace glared up at him with tired eyes, the green still misty and unfocused. If there were tears when he blinked, it was only because his eyes stung with exhaustion. Not because he was happy to hear the whole team visiting. Nope. Definitely not. (It totally was, but Iwaizumi would die before admitting how much the loyalty warmed his heart.)

“You’re finally awake! We were so scared! Do you have any idea how many people thought you were actually dead?!”

“Do I look dead?”

“... For the sake of my own life, Iwa-chan, I refuse to answer.” Hanamaki wasn’t so reserved.

“Try _living_ dead.” Iwaizumi huffed out an amused sound, but there was little he could do than generally flop his middle finger in Hanamaki’s general direction. Matsukawa snickered from the side, pushing himself out of the small plastic chair. Watari quickly claimed it, before Matsukawa had even moved away from it properly. With a devious grin, Matsukawa sat back down.

“Ack! No! Get off, get off! You’re breaking the chair! You’re breaking my _ribs_!” Laughing at Watari’s expense, any tension in the room fell away and the excitement levels returned to somewhat normal. Matsukawa freed Watari from butt prison, pausing just before he exited the room.

“I’ll find a nurse or doctor to re-examine your medicine. See if they can keep you awake.” Iwaizumi held up a hand in thanks, not sure if he would be able to project his voice all the way to the door. Everything was still so sluggish. His lethargy wasn’t really allowing him to keep track of the conversation going on around him, but he would occasionally squeeze Oikawa’s wrist to let him know he was still conscious, or that the setter was being too loud. 

At some point, Oikawa managed to wriggle his wrist out of Iwaizumi’s grasp, replacing it with his hand instead. Whenever he felt a spike of distress from Iwaizumi, caused when his neck twinged or he felt like he was falling, Oikawa would reassuringly circle his thumb over Iwaizumi’s knuckles. 

It wasn’t a huge gesture, but it was enough to calm the Ace down, to let him know he was safe. Through touch, Oikawa was able to convey the words everybody had on their minds, but nobody was embarrassing enough to say.

_“We missed you. We love you. If you fall, we will catch you. If you are lost, we will find you. If you’re hurt, we’ll be here for you.”_

“Hey, are you sure-”

“Yes, Kindaichi! We’re **sure** smoking is allowed in the hospital courtyard!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I'm gonna try and start responding to comments again, but I'm really bad so please don't be angry if all you get is a thank you!)
> 
> Chapter Question! : What's the _stupidest_ thing you've ever gone to hospital for?  
>  Mine was trying to skateboard down a hill and ending up falling off halfway, crashing into a steel dustbin, and rolling into a field just to get stepped on by a cow. Wildest holiday of my life.


	11. Swimsuits?

Admittedly, returning to school with just four days left wasn’t how Iwaizumi had planned his graduation week. But then, he hadn’t planned to present Omega either, so life was throwing him some pretty rough curveballs. Where he had sported a huge gauze over his neck at one point, Iwaizumi now had a large plaster over his gland. It was only there to protect the stitches, which would apparently come out in their own sweet time. For now, he was pleased to have something he could easily cover with his shirt collar, or tie.

“Hurry up, Iwa-chan~! Morning practice starts in like, ten minutes!”

“We have half an hour, dumbass! You forget that I don’t take as long as you to get ready.”

“It’s hard to forget when you’re nowhere near as pretty as- URK!” Iwaizumi released his grip on Oikawa’s tie, continuing on at a steady pace as if he hadn’t just choked his best friend.

“Rude, Iwa-chan.”

“Your morning breath is rude.”

“I brushed _twice_ , you brute!”

“Try mouthwash next time.”

“You’re the one who needs to wash his mouth with soap!” They continued to banter, Oikawa nudging against Iwaizumi and Iwaizumi pushing back, until they reached the gymnasium doors. This was where they were supposed to separate. Oikawa pouted as he looked back at Iwaizumi, fully engaging the puppy-dog eyes.

“... Are you sure you can’t come and watch? At least join in on the calmer exercises?” Iwaizumi sighed, rubbing the back of his head. He’d been forbidden doing strenuous exercise until the Monday after their graduation.

“You know I can’t. I’ll want to play far too much.”

“You’ll want to play too much no matter where you go.” With a scowl, Iwaizumi landed a gentle punch to Oikawa’s shoulder, more of a tap than a hit.

“I have to study in the library. Don’t strain your knee, dumbass Oikawa.”

“Is dumbass the only insult you kno- _I’m sorry, don’t hurt me_!!!” Dodging the fist that would have landed against his ribs, Oikawa laughed in genuine happiness.

“See you at break, Iwa Iwa~!” Iwaizumi couldn’t find it within himself to be mad as he huffed in amusement at Oikawa’s disappearing form and started walking towards the library. As soon as he had been released from hospital, the first thing he had done was check his exam results. In class 5, only just missing out on class 6, he had not only passed all his exams, but he had received enough marks to place him 18th in the year. It was an achievement he had reacted to with such joy, that he had ended up bawling with tears of delight as Matsukawa, Hanamaki, and Oikawa had pat his back or hugged him in congratulations, before they all went out for a meal together.

Still, having received word from all three universities he had applied for, Iwaizumi knew he needed to study hard even before starting first term. To Kobe and Nittaidai, he had received acceptance letters, but not scholarships. He _had_ a scholarship offer from Yamagata, but that was his third choice, so he was debating taking it. 

He had the finances for Nittaidai, but after what had happened with Chiba? No way. Kobe International was pushing it, but if he secured a job during the first month and worked 14 hours a week on minimum wage, he’d be able to survive with bare essentials. Plus, 95% of their graduates went on to receive a top paying job in the highest recommended clinics around Japan.

The struggle would be worth the outcome, but it was only if he could definitely procure a job within the first month. Other students would have the same plan, so it would have to be somewhere further on campus, which would require travelling expenses, and less time for homework, and-

“Oof.” Lost in his thoughts, Iwaizumi had walked straight into the locked library doors. He scowled as he rubbed his nose and then pushed at the doors once more, just to check. He sighed as he confirmed it locked.

“Great... What am I supposed to do now?”

“Iwaizumi?” He startled at the deep voice and whirled around, trying to make it seem like he hadn’t just been minimally jump-scared. His shoulders loosened any tension when he recognised the figure just down the hallway.

“Coach Irihata, good morning.” With a friendly smile, the coach adjusted the clipboard in hands and came over to speak to him.

“Good morning. Are you not joining in with practice?”

“No, I’m... Medically forbidden.”

“Ah, I see... You’re too early for the library, I’m afraid, but you’re very welcome to use the second year’s classrooms.”

“Only the second years?”

“Unfortunately so. The heating on the third corridor has completely broken, and the first year classrooms are undergoing a deep clean at the moment.” Iwaizumi nodded in understanding, making sure that he still had his bag securely on his shoulder. He had, luckily, brought a University level book along with him, so he could re-read that and refresh his memory.

“Thank you, Coach.”

“Glad to see you back, Iwaizumi.” Irihata’s smile faltered for a second and he reached out, laying a hand on Iwaizumi’s shoulder, yet his eyes were directed towards the large plaster.

“Try not to scare us like that again.” Despite the seriousness of what he was saying, Iwaizumi couldn’t resist a smirk.

“Only four days to go, sir. Don’t think I could plan anything in that time.” Irihata sighed, patting his shoulder for good measure before making his way to the gymnasium. Maybe he was getting too old to deal with these kids, but there was something magical about seeing how hard they fought to achieve their ambitions, how much _fun_ they had, just enjoying their youth and coming to life in the vicinity of a gymnasium. 

A player, on and off court, was almost two completely different people, and watching that change was almost similar to watching a superhero don his costume, or secret identity.

_‘Perhaps,’_ Irihata huffed to himself, _‘that is a stupid comparison’_. And yet, he couldn’t liken it to anything else. Just as his hand landed on the handle of the main gymnasium entrance, he paused. Usually, when he arrived, there was noise from a game, and the usual antics whilst practicing.

Today, there was a complete and utter ruckus. 

Sighing in dread of what he was about to witness, Irihata slid the door open. 

In the middle of the room, Matsukawa and Hanamaki had Kindaichi wrapped up and trapped in the volleyball net, begging to be released whilst Watari just casually sat on his back. Matsukawa was holding... A florescent pink swimsuit? Not the men’s kind either. Irihata looked to the other side of the gymnasium, where Kunimi was defending himself from Oikawa by curling up in the foetal position with his arms crossed over his chest and forehead pressed to the floor. 

It seemed to be working, until Kyoutani grunted out that his ankles were exposed and Oikawa cackled and deviously grabbed one to drag him over to Yahaba, who held up a small cyan blue _bikini_. It was only in the instance that Irihata noticed their state of undress. Kunimi was basically wearing his boxers and an unbuttoned shirt, whilst Kindaichi was being released from the net and his volleyball shorts wrestled off him, to join his shirt a few meters away.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Irihata banged his fist against the door to be heard over the maniacal laughter, the hollers and shouts, and the pleas for help.

“Oikawa, Matsukawa, Hanamaki! We talked about this last year! No terrorizing the first years! Watari, Kyoutani, Yahaba, I’m _ashamed_ of you. I expected much better behaviour.” The cheeky libero, with his arms under Kindaichi’s as to hold him back from running away, grinned at Irihata with no remorse.

“We had to go through it, why shouldn’t they? And hey! Swimsuits aren’t as bad as the thongs our Senpai forced us into!” If possible, Kunimi paled even more and let out a belated sob of distress. His unbuttoned shirt had been snatched away, and Yahaba was tying the bikini string into a cute little bow whilst Oikawa held him in a headlock. The Captain delivered a 250-watt smile. Irihata’s patience, usually something that could not be broken, suddenly reached its last thread.

“Just keeping up a tradition, Coach~.”

“Let the children go!” Matsukawa held up his hands in surrender, allowing Kindaichi to wrench himself free from Watari with the swimsuit now on. Only one of the shoulder straps was misplaced, seeing as Hanamaki hadn’t had time to pull it into place. Yahaba backed away from Kunimi with an apologetic smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He wasn’t apologetic at all. Irihata feared that he would be just as corrupt as Oikawa when they started again next year. Speaking of Oikawa...

“Oikawa Tooru, don’t you DARE-!” An embarrassed squawk came from Kunimi as his boxers were pulled down to reveal his bare ass to the world. Quickly, Yahaba stepped into place to hide anything from view, but Hanamaki came over to assist Oikawa in the humiliation of their precious kouhai. Kindaichi had scrambled, grabbing his volleyball uniform to wear over the swimsuit in pure shame. 

Like hell he was taking it off and going naked, even for a second. As he bent down to pick up his abandoned shirt, there was the distinctive click of a phone camera from behind. He looked over his shoulder with tears of frustration building in his eyes only to see Matsukawa smirk and take another. Whilst the Coach was trying to save Kunimi from a worse fate, there was no mercy for the middle blocker.

“S-Senpai, stop! Please!”

“Ahh~, you almost look cute like this, Kin-kun~.” He huffed and pulled on his shorts and shirt. Now that he appeared casual, he could get to the changing rooms and take this damn swimsuit off! He was stopped by someone appearing in the doorway. Salvation!

“I-Iwaizumi-Senpai!”

“Hey kid. Yahaba here yet? I need to ask about his class... Rooms... Facilities...” He voice trailed off at the end when he noticed the array in the background. Oikawa and Hanamaki had lifted Kunimi up by an ankle and wrist each, cheering as they threw him up into the air and then caught him on the downfall. Irihata couldn’t possibly intervene, for fear of them dropping the student. A low growl escaped Iwaizumi’s throat, almost sounding _Alphan_ in nature.

“Go on ahead, Yuutaro.”

“Y-Yes sir!” As Iwaizumi stormed over to the fray, Kyoutani was the first to notice him and backed away in surrender. His scent told Iwaizumi that he’d had very little part in this, so the Ace let him off. Yahaba noticed next, and looked guiltily down at the uniform in his hands before nervously grinning back at his upperclassman. Iwaizumi didn’t break eye contact as he snatched Kunimi’s uniform out of his fellow Omega’s arms.

“OI.” Before Kunimi could be launched into the air again, he drew their attention with a strong scent and furious tone. Hanamaki instantly froze on the spot, swallowing down a sudden lump in his throat.

_‘This odour... Oh fuck, Iwaizumi is gonna kill us.’_ Watari fucking bolted, Matsukawa right behind. The distinctive message Iwaizumi was sending through his scent, was that of an Omega who was defending a pup. If they didn’t retreat instantly, there would be blood. Oikawa seemed oblivious.

“Iwa-chan~! Remember when we finished our first year, and our Senpai did this to us?” Hanamaki’s panic spiked a little as he set Kunimi’s left leg down gently, so he was now half on the floor and half in the air with Oikawa holding up his right side. He looked truly pitiful, ashamed of his appearance in the blue bikini and visibly distressed, on the verge of crying in disgrace.

“Oikawa.”

“Oh! And second year, where we got to join in and do this to Watachin and Yahaba-chan~?”

“Oikawa!”

“So we decided to keep the tradition! What do you think, aren’t they pretty~?! Wait, where’s Kin-chan?” The venomous, fiery anger increased, and it was only then that Oikawa noticed Iwaizumi was pushing his sleeves up, poised to leap into battle. His head whipped round to Kunimi, then Iwaizumi, and he dropped Kunimi to the floor.

“NOT GUILTY.” Taking Watari’s example, he sprinted as far as he possibly could without actually exiting the gymnasium. Iwaizumi would have followed, but his eyes instead turned to Hanamaki. _Too close._ He was _far too close_ to the pup!

“E-Easy, Iwaizumi... He isn’t hurt, calm down...” The Beta backed away slowly, holding his hands up defensively in case Iwaizumi did give in to his instinct and launch himself at the ‘attackers’ of his ‘pup’. Luckily for him, Iwaizumi appeared to fight down those primal urges and instead crouched to where Kunimi was huddled on the floor, knees drawn up to his chest and hiccupping into them. 

The blue button up shirt was wrapped around his shoulder comfortingly, and brown eyes flicked up to meet green. An overwhelming feeling of safety flooded him and he wiped at his tears with the back of one hand. Iwaizumi held his own hand out for Kunimi to take.

“Can you stand?” Without words, he nodded, accompanied by a small hiccup. He allowed himself to be pulled to his feet, wincing when the bikini rode up his buttcheeks embarrassingly. Somebody probably would have laughed, if they weren’t threatened by death at the hands of their Ace. His plaited pants were passed over to him and it was probably the fastest Kunimi had ever moved off-court. As he redid the zip and button of his trousers, rough knuckles brushed against his chest as the shirt was buttoned up by Iwaizumi.

“There... Let’s get you to the clubroom so you can change properly. I’m sure Yuutaro went on ahead.” Again, Kunimi nodded, but until a soft hand tugged at his elbow, he didn’t make to move. He could feel the bikini material against his skin, and it was incredibly uncomfortable. At the very least, the rest of the team didn’t dare to even look at him whilst Iwaizumi was using his Omegan defensive scents. 

All they had to do was catch his eye and he’d instinctually see it as a challenge, going on the attack. Iwaizumi was too strong to defeat, even when he wasn’t going berserk to protect a pup. If he ever did that... It would take the whole team to pry him away from the clash. Luckily, they did not encounter anyone else on the way to the clubroom.

“Call me in when you’re ready.” Iwaizumi nudged Kunimi inside before closing the door and standing on guard outside. Belatedly, Kunimi whispered out a thank you, both on his behalf, and Kindaichi’s. Kindaichi was currently tucking his volleyball shirt into his shorts, the offending pink swimsuit hanging up on the pegs above the benches. Kunimi huffed at it as he unbuttoned his shirt. He reached round to the bikini strings, but it was tied up in such a way that he couldn’t find them, and tugging randomly only made the knot tighter.

“Kindaichi, can you help me get this off?”

“Huh? Oh, sure, yeah.” Rough fingertips brushed over Kunimi’s back as Kindaichi untied the knot and he shuddered under the touch, goosebumps rising on his skin.

“There, that should do it.”

“Thanks.” Realising his volleyball uniform was still in his bag in the gymnasium; Kunimi sighed and put his blue school shirt back on, fiddling with the buttons. Kindaichi made no move to exit the clubroom, just sitting on a bench. He looked surprisingly shrunken on in himself.

“Good thing Iwaizumi-Senpai came by when he did, huh?”

“Mhm. I was going to be sick if they launched me into the air one more time.”

“I-Into the air?!”

“Oh yeah, you’d left by then... Oikawa and Hanamaki were trying to stop me running away. And... I think they were a little hyper.”

“Pfft~. I wonder if they drank coffee, or had sugar with their breakfast.”

“Probably. Matsukawa seems to be immune to coffee though.”

“Yahaba says that he had an addiction to it during their second year.” Kunimi snorted, imaging the antics the third years would have gotten up to with Matsukawa on coffee, and not constantly lazing around. A small smile tugged at his lips.

“I feel like the teachers and Coaches would be at their wits end.”

“Aren’t they anyways?” In response, Kunimi gave a small laugh. It was only as he pulled his trousers up over his boxers that he realised Kindaichi had been purposely distracting him from the whole bikini incident, where the two-piece lay on the floor. He reached out and ruffled Kindaichi’s messy hair, flattening the ends and almost knocking him off the bench.

“Hey~! Leave the hair alone!” Despite the sharp tone, Kindaichi was laughing as he bat Kunimi’s hands away and started to spike up his hair again. The sombreness had lifted and Kunimi was able to shake away the building anxiety with great pride that he hadn’t ended up slumped in a corner in tears. Whilst that was a rare occurrence at school, it had happened in a few circumstances. 

Through thick and thin, Kindaichi had always been there for him, wrapping him in his much larger school blazer, or sitting next to him with an arm around his shoulders, or playing video game music through internet until Kunimi had substantially calmed down. 

Now, he had more than just Kindaichi.

He had the whole team, whom, when they weren’t forcing him into a bikini, were supportive and encouraging. There was Oikawa, who had instantly realised Kunimi hated expending energy until required, and had given helpful tips on how not to anger Coach Mizoguchi _so much_ and always thanked Kunimi when he actually joined in.

Hanamaki was touchy, always patting him on the back and squeezing him on the shoulder with a grin. But sometimes that meant more than words could and it gave Kunimi a sense of achievement, that he had made someone proud of him. Surprisingly, Hanamaki was also the first to pick up on the little signals that he was about to give in to anxious thoughts or whispering doubts. He’d usually give Kunimi a hearty slap on the back and an excuse to leave for a few moments to collect himself.

Of course, where Hanamaki went, Matsukawa followed. Kunimi could somewhat talk with the third year with great ease. They shared the same lazy streak and love for video games. At lunch, they’d usually be seated near each other to trade Pokémon or nap or something. Matsukawa made for a rather nice pillow, especially considering that he was a hugger. Whilst awake, he knew the boundaries and would only hug if it was his fellow third years, or humbly requested. Kunimi could relax around Matsukawa, when he wasn’t being strung into some devious plan.

Kyoutani was new to the club, and Kunimi still felt a little on-edge around him. He did, however, know that their member had a soft-spot for animals. It was hard to be completely scared of someone who had cooed as he helped a baby bunny out of a thorn bush when they were supposed to be training. Or when he suddenly stopped in the middle of jogging around town because he saw a cute dog. 

Once, Kunimi had stopped with him and asked the owner if the dog was safe for petting. Kyoutani had such an expression of thanks and amazement that someone had done that for him, Kunimi had forgotten to pet the dog himself. Ever since then, he’d notice Kyoutani was the last person to snicker at his dispense. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

Watari was cheerful and bright, but also understanding. Whenever Kunimi was feeling down, rather than anxious, he was the first one to walk over and just launch into meaningless conversation. Usually, there would be a funny punch line or a helpful life lesson, which would leave Kunimi either much happier or thinking too hard about Watari’s words to spend time being sad. He didn’t really stand out as much as the others, being perhaps the most normal of the upperclassmen, but Kunimi could see how much of a great support he really was.

The most sensitive of their upperclassmen was Yahaba, which made sense considering he had presented Omega. If Kunimi ever gave in to his little insecurities and Kindaichi wasn’t around, Yahaba would be right by his side with a warm hug and soft tone as he spoke words of comfort. It was good to know, that as well as having most of the team as a safety net in case he ever started to fall, there was someone there to pick him up when he hit rock bottom. Kindaichi was probably closer to Yahaba than Kunimi was, but they were both on friendly terms.

Last of all, and just outside the door, was Iwaizumi. Often, Oikawa would joke about Iwaizumi being the ‘mom’ of the team, but Kunimi could definitely see the instances where Oikawa had picked up on the behaviour he could originally turn into that joke. Iwaizumi would scold someone if they did wrong, or encourage them when they did good, but most of all; he was _protective_. 

Even long before he had presented, back in Kitagawa-Daichii, Iwaizumi had been the mother of them all. He’d been the first one to step up and teach the first years when they arrived, not afraid to make body contact as he moved them into the best position for receiving, or when they were practicing spikes against a wall. Kunimi had first found enthusiasm for volleyball when Iwaizumi had walked into practice one day, placed a can of melon soda in front of him, and praised the massive improvement in his spikes.

That motivation had slowly disappeared when the third years went to Aobajousai and they were left with _Kageyama_. He was only the official setter because of his overwhelming talent, but what use was that when he couldn’t even set the ball up for the spiker properly?! Kindaichi had trouble hitting those insanely fast quicks, not even the fastest Kageyama could set, and Kunimi had found them absolutely impossible. Why waste energy running to hit the ball when he was conserving it for the actual spike?

Coming into Aobajousai again, Iwaizumi had been the first to greet them, ruffling Kunimi’s hair and patting Kindaichi’s shoulder. He’d constantly mentored them, until they had played in the qualifying matches. Whilst it had done nothing against Shiratorizawa, they’d gained a victory over Karasuno. Kunimi smirked as he remembered Kageyama’s defeated face. Even though he had found his teammate awareness, Kunimi had wanted to see him lose. He’d wanted to see him crushed under the ability of what a setter should be.

“Kunimi...? Y’okay? You kinda look like you’re potting someone’s death.” He turned to Kindaichi and grinned a little wider, loving the way Kindaichi flinched away. He was such a nervous wreck sometimes; it was hilarious to tease him a bit.

“I- I’ll call Senpai in!”

“Ah, you can do that anyways, seeing as we’re both changed.” With a nod, Kindaichi got up and opened the door. Iwaizumi nodded before ushering him back inside and coming to sit between them on the bench. He was leaking a comfort scent, intended for pups, but worked on all younger people, and the duo instinctively leant into him. Kunimi could comfortably nestle his head on Iwaizumi’s shoulder, but being taller, Kindaichi was just sitting at an awkward angle. 

Iwaizumi adjusted for him by reaching an arm up to wrap around his shoulders, like a support. At some point, the comforting scent changed into the familiar tinge of pack bonding. Gently, Iwaizumi nuzzled against them both, indulging in his Omegan instincts. Whilst he would normally fight off those instincts to remain his usual tough self, with an unshakeable reputation, he was willing to privately show softness to two ‘pups’ who had just been through something _traumatic_. 

He knew the experience, having been part of the second years that had placed Yahaba and Watari in thongs. Back then, he’d felt guilty but laughed along. 

In his own first year at Aobajousai, they had been placed in ice baths. Matsukawa had never reached that high pitched scream ever again, and Hanamaki had turned positively blue, caught hypothermia, and spent a week recovering. Oikawa had shrieked and fled from the bath only to be caught and ditched back in multiple times, serving his own five minutes of icy hell.

The third years had left the then-second years in charge of those three whilst going hunting for Iwaizumi. Forty minutes after torturing the others, they’d found him hiding in the upper branches of a tree. Another ten minutes later saw him dragged kicking and screaming and scowling all the way back to the little paddling pool. He’d been stripped, thrown in, and glared at them without even shivering. 

Instead, he kept the deathly eye contact as he picked an ice cube out the water and slowly chewed on it, revelling in the way the upperclassmen had shuddered at the cracking and shattering of the ice cube between his teeth. In the end, with the upperclassmen suitably intimidated, Iwaizumi only had to endure three minutes in the icy water. Once he’d stepped out, he turned to the then-captain and coolly spat out _“Is that all you’ve got?”_

Nobody had dared to mess with him after that point. With the exception of his closest friends, of course. Leaning into the warmth from someone usually stern and cold, Kunimi accidentally let out a light purr. 

Purrs were unique in that they were the only ‘Dynamic’ noise that could be produced by those that hadn’t presented. He flushed in embarrassment as he heard Kindaichi stifle a laugh, but Iwaizumi openly chuckled, _‘tree bark slathered with honey’_ , and returned the noise with a soft nuzzle. 

No doubt about it, he’d pretty much adopted them.

“How’re you feeling?” His voice was softer than normal, a tone he saved for when he was generally mentoring. Kindaichi shifted against Iwaizumi’s side, pulling away to scratch the back of his neck.

“Kinda humiliated. I- I guess? It’s not so bad now, but I think they have photos and stuff... Well, I know Matsukawa has one of me...” A low growl erupted from Iwaizumi’s throat before he reeled it in and cut off by pretending he was just clearing it.

“I’ll talk to them. If they have any, they won’t for long.”

“Th- Thank you, Senpai!” Kindaichi instantly perked up, smiling brightly. Kunimi couldn’t help but feel his own lips tug up in a similar expression.

“Go and get warmed up. Don’t worry, Coach will control them now. It’s easy enough once they’ve calmed down a bit.” Kindaichi stood up and headed out the clubroom with a brightness he had lacked beforehand. The neon pink swimsuit caught Iwaizumi’s eye and he clicked his tongue in disgust.

“We’ll burn those later.”

“Wouldn’t that be a waste?”

“I don’t think swimsuits are recyclable.”

“Burning seems appropriate.” At the swift change in tune, Iwaizumi laughed.

“You’re gonna be okay, Akira~.” He huffed in contentment, sitting up properly instead of leaning in now. It signalled that he didn’t need the comfort anymore, that he could stand on his own two feet. What had been mortification and distress was now turning into annoyance. He wanted, just a little, to go and step on everyone’s toes. It didn’t sound very vicious, but it was a big step for Kunimi, whom had only ever shown slight aggression towards Kindaichi, slapping him for stupid comments or pushing him into a hedge on the way home when he was being too loud. That was part of their routine.

“I hope so. Right now, I just want to play the frustrations out.” If Kindaichi were still here, he might have made an offhand comment teasing Kunimi for actually being active for once. He’d done it before. But Kindaichi was in the gymnasium warming up, and Iwaizumi was here instead. He ruffled Kunimi’s hair in a friendly manner.

“I’ll text Oikawa to bring your uniform over. Gives me a chance to smack him.”

“Pfft. You’re going to give him concussion one day.”

“He deserves it. A little.” Kunimi nodded as Iwaizumi typed out some vague order to bring the uniform across, laced with profanities and insults. As the third year did that, Kunimi started doing a few stretches he was capable of in his uniform. At one point, he thought he heard a stitch burst, but it was just the fabric straining. Stitches...

“Ah, Senpai. How are your stitches?” With a thoughtful hum, Iwaizumi raised a hand to press over the large plaster on his neck. Whether the movement was conscious or not, Kunimi couldn’t tell.

“Honestly? They hurt. A lot. Especially when I move too quickly. Painkillers help, but because it’s over the gland, it’s really sensitive. The internal ones are absolutely killer. Doctors have said I can’t do even light exercise until the Monday after we graduate, and even then I have to take strong medication. The stuff that gets you arrested on suspicion of doping at athletic events.”

“Sheesh... What did you actually do? Oikawa-Senpai said you’d been in an accident involving the gland, but he wouldn’t specify what, and Hanamaki kept changing subject when we asked him. Eventually, Matsukawa just said it was something you had to tell us yourself...” The shameful and pained expression on Iwaizumi’s face made him want to take back his words, but it was too late. They were already out there. 

He expected Iwaizumi to blatantly tell him to go away, in a very hurt tone. Instead, the third year clenched his fists together and guiltily turned his gaze to the floor. His voice was heavy with blame.

“I... Did it to myself.” Kunimi drew in a sharp breath, as if he’d been sucker punched in the chest. Iwaizumi met his eyes, strangely submissive in his posture.

“An Alpha... Overwhelmed me. And I gave in. I never- Never asked, or wanted, or _expected_ to be an Omega. I hated it. I mean, I’m learning now that I can still be an Omega and be myself, but when drowning in a scent like that... It was hard to think of anything except NOT being Omega.” His voice dropped and became more hoarse.

“The last coherent thought I remember before being held in Oikawa’s arms, in agony, was _‘If I remove the gland, would I stop being Omega?’_. It was dangerous. Thoughts like that mixing in with Alpha scent lead to, well, what happened.” Kunimi shuddered. So an Omega could be manipulated into behaviours other than heat and Oppression? He prayed that he would turn out Beta, or even Alpha by some miracle. 

Iwaizumi inhaled slowly, moving to lie back on the bench and look up at the ceiling.

“Sometimes, my mother still looks at me like I’m a disappointment, or Alpha’s will try to approach. At their own risk, I hope they realise. Other times, I worry that I’m not Omegan enough. That nobody will want me this way. What kind of Alpha would want an Omega who’s tougher than them?”

“Oikawa would.” The words were out before Kunimi could stop them, and he closed his mouth abruptly to look away, expecting Iwaizumi to burst into outrage. A quiet explicit slipped Iwaizumi’s lips, but then he took a calming breath.

“I invited him to show intent. He still hasn’t. No gift, no promise, not even an inkling of planning something.” The words were uncomfortably loud in the empty clubroom, echoing down the shower corridor.

“O-Oikawa-Senpai is sly. I’m sure he’s planning something... Huge. Obnoxious. Embarrassing. He’s just really good at hiding stuff?” Laughter, warm and handsome brought a burst of colour into the previously dull room.

“You’re probably right. Insecurities be damned, that dumbass is _definitely_ plotting something that can only end in disaster.” Kunimi hummed in agreement. Oikawa had a lavish history of – putting it nicely – messing things up in spectacular fashion. 

Whether the results were good - such as when he’d burst a hundred balloons _with fire_ in succession at Hanamaki’s surprise birthday party, but they’d ended up being filled with confetti – Or when the results were bad – like that one time he had tried to punch Kageyama in the face. 

Honestly, Kunimi wasn’t sure that had even happened, being word-of-mouth from Kageyama himself, until he’d seen the resulting injuries from Iwaizumi head butting Oikawa’s nose. Oikawa’s nose had been swollen and bruised, with a little green plaster over the bridge. Iwaizumi’s forehead had been an angry shade of black and purple, slightly swollen, and definitely concussed. He’d been out of action for three days, assigned to babysitting Oikawa and picking up stray balls all practice.

“Maybe he’ll do something in the gym.”

“He’d better not fucking destroy it.”

“Ah... That’s a risk. Let’s hope Hanamaki and Matsukawa are ‘helping’ him.”

“... Together, they’d cause enough disaster that I’ll be stuck babysitting them _for life_ , the idiots.”

“Yahaba, then?”

“We can only hope. Although Yahaba is the hopeless romantic type... If he’s advising them, it would consist of hundreds of red roses and soppy love songs and _shitty poems_.” Kunimi snickered under his breath.

“Not a poetry fan, Senpai~?”

“Don’t get me started. We have to analyse them in third year Japanese literature, and what the hell do I care if the poet made the curtains blue?! _‘This shows the struggles and depression the poet suffered at the time of writing-’_ , yeah right! Shut the fuck up! Maybe he just wanted goddamn blue curtains!” Kunimi stifled his laugh by pressing a hand over his mouth, but the more Iwaizumi ranted on about _‘Goddamn poets and fucking analysts and **fucking teachers**_ ’, the harder he found it hold back. 

The fact that he shouldn’t laugh because Iwaizumi was legitimately angry about this only made the situation funnier.

“- I swear to fucking god, if anyone says _“It’s structured this way to sound like a heartbeat because it’s romantic”_ , **one more fucking time** , I’m going to STRANGLE them with their own tie!” He couldn’t hold back anymore. Kunimi hunched over, clutching at his stomach as he laughed aloud. It wasn’t the first time he’d laughed since coming to Aobajousai, but it was definitely the loudest and most embarrassing. He pressed his head against the wall to support himself as Iwaizumi _still_ raged on. 

This was the scene that Hanamaki walked in on.

“... I’m not even going to ask.” He dropped a bag, specifically, Kunimi’s bag, onto the bench closest to him.

“Your uniform’s in here. Oikawa sent me because he feared murder at the hands of the Ace.” Kunimi calmed himself enough that he was only wearing a face-splitting smile and murmured a thank-you as he sorted through his bag for his uniform.

“Damn fucking right, he’d better be scared of me.”

“Iwaizumi, you need to lighten up~. He almost shat himself over that text message.”

“Good. Tell him I meant it. Every single word.” Hanamaki’s expression twisted into something odd and he came over to sit right next to where Iwaizumi was lying down, flopping backwards over his stomach.

“Why you gotta.”

“Because I’m an angry ass with very little restraint over my fury.”

“Okay, yeah, we know that.”

“Shut up.” Iwaizumi shoved lightly at Hanamaki, but there was no real threat behind it. It was more of an affectionate gesture, just the way that Iwaizumi showed he cared. Hanamaki smirked before shuffling to make himself more comfortable.

“Nah man, I’m serious. Oikawa’s really trying his damn best to impress you.”

“Uh-huh, keep telling yourself that. So far, nothing has changed at all.” Hanamaki made an exaggeration sound of exasperation, gurgling in the back of his throat. He reached up and flicked Iwaizumi’s nose, ignoring the growl that came his way.

“Isn’t that the point, you idiot?”

“Oi...”

“You morons love each other the way you are, there’s no point in changing how you act around each other if you’re comfortable with that.” Iwaizumi scowled at the reasoning.

“Yeah, but, he hasn’t even given a gift of intent.”

“You’re stupider than I thought.”

“OI!” Hanamaki rolled over, laying over Iwaizumi’s chest instead, pinning him down.

“Iwaizumi, Iwaizumi, Iwaizumi~. What event takes place in just four days?”

“... Graduation?”

“Correct! And what is there, that we give to others, and is deeply significant, at graduation?” Iwaizumi’s eyes widened and he drew in a breath.

“Buttons.”

“Specifically, the second button. Closest to the heart and all that claptrap.”

“He- He’s going to give me his second button?” Kunimi tucked his volleyball shirt into his shorts as Kindaichi had done earlier, noticing the growing rush of blood to Iwaizumi’s cheeks.

“Course he is. He’d better damn give me the fourth button.” Tilting his head, Kunimi wondered why Hanamaki would specifically want the fourth. After all, the third and fourth buttons were equal in the fact that they were both for friends. The first button, for a ‘buddy’, was generally given to attending siblings or underclassmen. At least, that was how it had been at Kitagawa. Was it the same for Aobajousai? Hanamaki noticed the questioning expressing on Kunimi’s face and smirked deviously.

“Mattsun and I are on a quest to collect as many dick buttons as possible.” Iwaizumi laughed loudly, not even bothering to hold back.

“I’m putting money on Mattsun.”

“Uh, rude! I’m right here, lying on you, you know!”

“My lungs can tell. Get off, you oaf.” Iwaizumi batted at the Beta, until Hanamaki finally stood up and stepped away.

“So, what were you going on about when I came in?”

“Hanamaki-Senpai, no!” The warning came too late as Iwaizumi’s face creased into disgust and he began his long, ridiculous rant over again from the very beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are two specific points of foreshadowing here. Can you find them both? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


	12. Family, or what it's supposed to look like.

Iwaizumi had studied the entire day. As soon as the library had been unlocked, he’d chosen a prime spot amongst the biology books, and buried himself in the study of muscles, tendons, ligaments, and rehabilitation. 

By the end of it, he’d learnt about seven different medications for a rotary cuff injury, as well as found out the molecular construction for the tablets Oikawa had to take when his knee got bad. Taking it one step further, Iwaizumi had piled books up around his table, open on different pages about different subjects, and tried to detect where the current medication could be improved. 

He didn’t have much luck, but that was mainly due the fact he hadn’t even _started_ university yet, and he was entering as a physical therapist, not a pharmacist. 

When the bell went for the end of the day, it took the other three third years to wrestle Iwaizumi out, claiming that he wasn’t done yet and it was important and he **had** to prove himself from the very start-

He stopped when he almost fell over under a wave of dizziness and pain. Oikawa managed to catch him and held him up under the arms, whilst Matsukawa searched through Iwaizumi’s bag for his pills and Hanamaki fetched a cup of water from the nearby drinking fountain.

“Honestly, Iwa-chan! You tell me off for pushing myself too hard, but you’re too dehydrated to stand! Silly Billy, what were you trying to achieve?” He didn’t get to answer as Hanamaki held the cup to his lips, tilting it so he could sip. With a wince, he regained his footing and cleared his throat.

“Thanks. Anyways, I got lost in studying. It’s not like I was _trying_ to end up on the floor.” He took the packet of tablets from Matsukawa, popping two out of their casing and swallowing them dry. Oikawa winced. Those tablets were larger than his, and he had to drink almost a whole bottle to make them go down!

“Either way, you’ve been in here all day. That’s almost six hours of getting your head stuck in books. You didn’t even turn up for _lunch_.” Iwaizumi guiltily scratched the back of his head as he placed the books back in their position on the shelf.

“Sorry about that. I guess I got carried away.” Hanamaki looked over the scribble all across Iwaizumi’s writing book, trying to decipher what any of it meant. He could pick out some sort of chemical formation, as well as highly detailed drawings of muscles, perfectly labelled and colour coded. It was on a level that Hanamaki hadn’t even seen in the displays around Universities he had visited during the selection period.

“Not too late to become an artist, Iwaizumi.”

“Hm? Ah, no thanks. Those are just revision notes.” Matsukawa leant over, chin on Hanamaki’s shoulder and his eyes widened a minimal amount in impressiveness.

“I’d let you tattoo me.”

“You’d let me near you with an ink filled needle?” He quickly took back that claim as Iwaizumi snorted in amusement. Oikawa was being strangely quiet, holding one of the books up and reading it with a sad expression.

“Oikawa?” He drew in a slow breath, brows drawing inwards and nose scrunching up in thought a little.

“Iwa-chan?”

“Yeah?”

“This is the stuff I have to take, isn’t it?”

“... Yeah. That sort of injury... Is the main part of what we cover in second term.” With comically watery eyes, Oikawa looked up at Iwaizumi, visibly sparkling. There was awe in his voice.

“You chose this for me?” There was no hiding it now, as Iwaizumi pretended not have heard, but his ears were tipped red. Hands in pockets, Hanamaki leered and leaned in close.

“Loooovestruuuuck~.” He received a shoulder to the chest.

“Says the one with hickeys all over his neck. Don’t think I can’t see them. Mattsun has them too.” The duo went equal shades of white as they blinked at Iwaizumi. Together, they’d pretty much covered all the marks. How could he have seen them so easily?! Oikawa gave a slight cackle from behind, reminiscent of the girls from 90’s anime.

“You forgot a fatal flaw in your plan~.” Matsukawa groaned under his breath.

“Sweat. We sweat it off during practice, Takahiro.”

“Aww, shitcakes.” Iwaizumi only laughed, whilst Oikawa sauntered over and slung an arm across each of their shoulders.

“We knew you were doing each other anyways.”

“Wh- What? Since when?!” In perfect unison, Iwaizumi and Oikawa answered, one with a deadpan tone and the other light, cheerful, and teasing.

“Since Mattsun presented.” Makki had slowly been turning shades darker, and moved to bury his face in Matsukawa’s shoulder. A large hand ruffled his hair comfortingly, the lightest of smirks on Matsukawa’s face. It wasn’t often he got to see Hanamaki truly flustered.

“They know, Issei. They fucking know.”

“Well, they are our best friends.”

“Sap. You’re all saps. Iwaizumi’s the worst. He’s Queen Sap. Sappy as a tree.” A hard thwack landed on Hanamaki’s upper arm and he whined as he held it.

“Talk shit, get hit.”

“Such a brute, Iwa-chan~! At least it’s not my beautiful face this time~. WAH, NO!” Oikawa scampered as a paperback book came his way, scrambling to hide behind a bookshelf and sticking his tongue out. Matsukawa nudged Hanamaki off him as he picked the book up to hand back to Iwaizumi, the shorter placing it where it belonged with a yawn.

“You’re going to be in agony when you step outside and see how bright it is.”

“Tell me about it. I’m thinking of moving in here.”

“We only have four- three days left. It would take that long to get all your stuff in here.”

“Probably less, actually. Did you know Iwa-Chan’s room is practically bare!?” The duo exchanged confused looks.

“What? We’ve been over plenty of times, and it’s a mess. Not as messy as yours.”

“Noooo! Mine is perfect, like me!”

“That explains the ugly ass personality to match the ugly ass aliens.” Oikawa gasped out in genuine shock and a tinge of fake hurt as Hanamaki guffawed and Matsukawa snickered. It took a few spluttering starts for Oikawa to summon a response.

“Says the one who wears Godzilla underpants!”

_“That was supposed to be a **secret**!!!”_ Oikawa slapped a hand over his mouth, but the damage was done. Hanamaki burst out laughing, and Matsukawa reached out and gave Iwaizumi a wedgie that would last for days.

“I don’t see Godzilla.”

“Ow! I don’t wear them anymore!”

“You had them on Tuesday!”

“Did not!” The two delved into their usual squabbling, Matsukawa watching with a sigh. He picked up Iwaizumi’s bag, slinging it over his shoulder and started walking off with Hanamaki at his heels.

“How long until they follow, Issei?”

“I’d say... By the time we make it to the school gates.”

“What if we run?”

“Halfway to Oikawa’s.” Hanamaki grinned with demonic intention.

“Race ya.” They took off at a sprint, shouldering each other and jamming elbows in ribs as they skid through the school corridors, narrowly dodging other people exiting their clubs, and taking the corners with near impossible turns. At one point, Matsukawa toppled over and Hanamaki did nothing but steal Iwaizumi’s bag, cackle and keep running. 

All’s fair in love and competition. 

With a pulse of irritation at being overtaken in such a manner, Matsukawa regained his footing and headed for the lifts. He whistled and tapped his foot casually as it took him down the last two floors, stepped out, and leant against the wall. Hanamaki came whirling around the corner at the end of the corridor where the stairs where and paused to gawp at him in shock.

“What the-!? How did you...?! CHEAT.” Matsukawa laughed heartily before taking off again, clear in the lead as he weaved through the crowds and out the gates. Hanamaki was behind him, shouting and cursing, but at least he had the bag. 

In the clearer streets, it didn’t take long for him to catch up. Hanamaki was faster, even if he had had Iwaizumi’s bag on his shoulder, and he had far more stamina from all his competitions with the Ace. Matsukawa was started to run out of breath, feeling his lungs protest as he turned the last corner to see Oikawa’s house come into view. 

By now, Iwaizumi and Oikawa would be hot on their tails, but Matsukawa slowed to a jog and eventually stopped, slumping against a lamppost to regain his breath. Hanamaki, the little shit, playfully jogged on the spot next to him.

“What’s wrong, Issei~? Out of puff? Not quick enough for me~?”

“F-fuck... Off... ‘Hiro...” He laughed, before turning deathly pale as a roar of _“Give my bag back!”_ echoed down the street after them.

“Gotta run.”

“He’ll catch you.”

“Trip him for me. Love ya!” Hanamaki sprinted off, leaving Matsukawa to watch him with a huff of amusement. He drew in a deep breath and stood up straight; hoping to make it look like he’d always been leaning against this lamppost, cool as a cucumber. 

It was barely a few seconds before Iwaizumi came round the corner, a ball of fury underneath the glowing blue streetlights. He swiftly changed his run into a fast paced march up to Matsukawa, eyebrows drawn so tightly together that it could be a monobrow. He held out a single hand, palm flat.

“Bag.”

“I don’t have it.”

“Where?”

“Takahiro.” That was all there was to their exchange, the only distraction Matsukawa could provide, until Iwaizumi was gone again. He snickered at the disappearing spiker, but did not move from the lamppost. 

After a few minutes, clearly pouting and grumbling to himself about being left behind, Oikawa came into sight. He brightened up at the sight of Matsukawa and released a fake sob.

“Mattsun! You waited for me!”

“Nah, I just didn’t want to join in the loser parade.”

“Rude! Iwa-chan is not a loser!”

“He wears Godzilla underpants.”

“I didn’t mean to tell you that!” Matsukawa snorted in amusement, pushing himself off the lamppost and slinging an arm tiredly across Oikawa’s shoulders, leaning all his weight against him.

“Carry me.”

“You’re too heavy, Mattsun.”

“Rude. I’m light as a feather.”

“You’re 163 pounds!”

“16 _2.7, actually_.”

“Maybe you should lay off the hamburger steak.” The offended and shocked look Oikawa received had him burst into bright laughter, a snort in the middle before he covered his hand with his mouth to try and hold back the giggles.

“I’m joking, I’m joking~! Oh my gosh, you look like someone just told you to kill your dog!”

“Don’t joke about Nugget like that!” Oikawa’s eyes crinkled in genuine happiness as his tone took on a teasing lilt and he completely relaxed his stance.

“What was Nugget’s full name again?” With a scowl, Matsukawa kicked a stone and grumbled under his breath. He knew Oikawa was going to laugh. _Everyone_ laughed at the name of his dog, but he and Hanamaki had named the basset hound together, and there was no way he was going to change it. (Not when he secretly loved it, especially when Hanamaki cooed and fawned over the loveable mutt.)

“...Jester McNugget, Sacred Knight Of The Cheeseburger Tribe.” As expected, Oikawa burst into laughter. Matsukawa responded by leaning more of his weight against him, practically slumped over Oikawa’s shoulders.

“Ow, ow, ow! Watch the knee!”

“Oop, sorry. You okay?”

“Luckily, yeah~.” Oikawa stretched his leg out a couple of times, testing the joint. Since the Nittaidai match, it had been playing up, but nothing major. It was enough that Iwaizumi _would_ have made him stop halfway through practice, if he’d actually been there and not in a hospital room. 

For once, he’d actually been careful himself, notifying Coach when he needed to rest. Perhaps not as many times as Iwaizumi would have dragged him off court for, but enough that his knee only slightly panged every now and then. Matsukawa noticed the way Oikawa’s nose crinkled slightly as he limbered up his leg.

“You’ve been pushing it too hard, haven’t you?” A soft guilty whine was his only response, to which Matsukawa sighed. He reluctantly moved to crouch in front of Oikawa.

“Get on my back.”

“MATTSUN, I LOVE YOU.” Squealing, Oikawa flopped forwards onto Matsukawa’s back, hooking his arms around the broad shoulders. Matsukawa looped his arms under Oikawa’s legs, lifting Oikawa as he stood with a small, amused huff. A teasing tone entered his voice.

“Cheating on your Omega already~? I’m flattered, but really.”

“I’m sure Iwa-chan would understand~.” Oikawa slyly squeezed one of Matsukawa’s shoulders, to which he couldn’t hold back a laugh.

“Either way, let’s go make sure your intended-boyfriend hasn’t killed my actual boyfriend.” Oikawa was slightly rocked by the movement of Matsukawa’s walk, yawning and burying his face in Matsukawa’s shoulder. Their short moment of comfortable silence was broken by a soft murmur.

“What if he thinks my gift of intent is lame? Cliché? What if he doesn’t accept?”

“Oikawa, he _invited_ you to give a gift of intent. No matter how lame or cliché your gift is, which, it really is, he’ll accept.”

“But-.”

“But nothing. Iwaizumi knows you’re lame. Even Makki and I know that, and we haven’t known you nearly as long.”

“Rude!” Matsukawa jostled Oikawa lightly, as if to shake off the slump the setter had put himself in.

“He’ll accept. All that really matters is you give me your dick button.” Oikawa giggled into the shoulder his face was pressed against.

“I already promised you, didn’t I~?” About to retort, Matsukawa cut himself off when he saw Iwaizumi and Hanamaki squabbling on Oikawa’s doorstep. Iwaizumi had Hanamaki in a headlock, but that wasn’t stopping Hanamaki from jabbing his fingers in Iwaizumi’s ribs and attempting to tickle his way out of the headlock. Iwaizumi gave a squawk as the digits pressed in against his ticklish point, and retorted by ruffling the pinkish hair in a violently affectionate way. 

Oikawa snickered as he watched them, raising a hand to his mouth to amplify what he was about to say.

“Leave the foreplay for inside, Makki, Iwa-chan~!” The duo froze in their positions, looking back at Oikawa and Matsukawa with slowly dawning blushes and embarrassment beyond possible. 

Iwaizumi looked like he wanted to melt into a puddle in the ground and have the earth swallow him whole, whilst Hanamaki took the opportunity to pull himself out of the headlock. Despite the obvious glow to the tips of his ears, and rosy red crawling up his neck and blossoming on his cheeks, he smirked and slung an arm over Iwaizumi’s shoulders, careful to avoid the gland.

“We were just fighting over who gets to top~.” Iwaizumi spluttered, on the verge of fainting. Oikawa couldn’t help but press the final buttons.

“Ooh, sexy~. But if Iwa-chan wins, does that mean he has to ride you?” That was the moment their surprisingly innocent Ace felt himself falling and blacked out before he could even land in Hanamaki’s waiting arms, knowing exactly what was going to happen. With a sigh, Matsukawa let Oikawa down off his back so he could go and unlock the door.

“That was slightly mean, don’t you think?”

“Oh please, if I hadn’t done it, you would.” The tips of Matsukawa’s lips lifted in a smirk as he picked up Iwaizumi and Hanamaki’s discarded bags, seeing as the latter was currently carrying the former.

“True. Hey, what movie are we watching this week?”

“Makki’s choice, which probably means Disney or Studio Ghibli.” Matsukawa dumped the bags and his shoes in the doorway, as Oikawa elegantly slipped off his own shoes and pulled on a resting knee support from one of the compartments on the side. An excited voice answered them from the living room.

“DISNEY~!” It wasn’t that Hanamaki was obsessed, per se, but... No, he was obsessed. 

Anything animated caught his attention, but something about the classic Disney animation had captured his heart. He wasn’t too keen on the new 3D or CGI style, which Oikawa surprisingly loved, but Disney was something Hanamaki would go back to over and over again. Matsukawa gave an exasperated smile as he entered the living room and flopped onto the sofa next to Hanamaki. 

It was hard to squeeze all four of them on it, but they weren’t too concerned with entangled limbs and crushed organs. The only reason to be careful now was Iwaizumi’s neck, so they didn’t damage the stitches.

“So, are we watching Lion King for the 30th time? The Little Mermaid for the 24th? Lilo and Stitch for the 8th?” Hanamaki slid from the sofa to go over to the DVD collection pile, where Oikawa had all the ones they’d brought over each week stored. They were sorted by genre, so all the Disney was to one side. 

He pulled out the pile of about twelve different movies, and then paused to snicker.

“Lilo and _Stitch_ would be ironic, wouldn’t it?” From the doorway, Oikawa snorted. He had a tray in his hands with four drinks in the centre. One lemonade, one melon soda, one strawberry milk, and one green tea.

“Iwa-chan would try to kill you.”

“When isn’t he trying?”

“Good point. Lilo and Stitch then?” They expected an immediate response, but Hanamaki was instead looking at the only Disney movie that was still in its original wrap. It hadn’t been opened yet, if only because he’d selected the same 11 over and over again out of love and dedication. Along with his Studio Ghibli movies, where he’d actually played Kiki’s Delivery Service enough times that the disc no longer worked. He’d cried when it hadn’t picked up anymore. (Though he denied it every time.)

“No... I’m thinking... Since even I haven’t seen this one, we could discover something new together.”

“Mad gay, Takahiro.” He sent a dashing smile Matsukawa’s way.

“What’s it called, Makki~?”

“Hunchback of Notre Dame.”

“Hunchback? Must be Kyoutani, the way he slouches.” Oikawa’s bright and hideous laugh was broken by a soft groan as Iwaizumi regained consciousness. He looked around in confusion at how he got inside but just shrugged, hissed at the sensation that caused to his gland, and settled his gaze on the tray Oikawa had placed on the small centre table. Understandingly, and with a gross soppy smile that Matsukawa faked a gag at, Oikawa picked up the cup of green tea and brought it over to him.

“Extra bitter, just like you~.” He took the mug and elbowed Oikawa lightly.

“Thanks.” Oikawa pushed his way between Iwaizumi and the edge of the sofa, attempting to drag the smaller into his lap and receiving a thwack to the chest in response. He immediately stopped with a pout and leaned forwards to grab his strawberry milk, which he sipped at moodily. 

Matsukawa snickered at their interaction, which was a weekly tradition, and grabbed his own melon soda as he shuffled over to make room between him and Iwaizumi for Hanamaki.

“Oikawa, where’s the remote?!”

“Uh... Under the TV? No, maybe under the table? Uh...”

“Behind the vase on the windowsill.” Hanamaki fetched it, making sure to ruin Oikawa’s hair on the way back before he plopped into his seat, half on Matsukawa’s lap before he readjusted and wiggled in. Iwaizumi’s interest in the TV peaked.

“Hunchback of Notre Dame? This is new.”

“Yeah, not even Makki’s seen it.”

“Wow, it must be illusive then.”

“I prefer the term underrated!”

“You haven’t even seen it yet!”

“It’s _Disney_ , Iwaizumi. It’s gonna be GREAT.” Aventurine eyes rolled at the proclamation, but he did not speak as Hanamaki selected the play button. The room went quiet, apart from the blast of the movie and the occasional sip of someone drinking. Oikawa was being remarkably quiet for once, but Iwaizumi knew it wouldn’t last long. 

And once Oikawa started, so did the other two. Eventually, he’d give in and start talking to them too, only half focused on the movie. Maybe that was why they never got bored with the same movies over and over again.

“...I’d look great in gypsy clothes.” There went Oikawa. Matsukawa snorted and Hanamaki shushed them. Then later on, Oikawa decided that the Frodo’s song was going to be his entrance theme. Matsukawa had to remind him that it had rather a horrific message of wanting to claim someone unwilling or burn them to death. Oikawa shuddered and declared he’d rather be the goat. 

Hanamaki stated he could see the resemblance, and Oikawa whined, leaning over Iwaizumi to playfully smack at Hanamaki’s arm. Still, it wasn’t enough to distract from the movie. Halfway through, however, and just after Quasimodo had gone to the festival, Hanamaki snorted and doubled over in his seat, shaking with silent laughter.

“... Holy shit. Takahiro, you breathing?” He wheezed; nodding his head as tears of hilarity started to stream down his face. Even Oikawa, who had sniggered at first, was now frowning in concern. Matsukawa thumped him on the back a few times, and once Hanamaki had gained enough air, even though he was still cracking up at his own thought, he managed to push the words out between his teeth.

“I- Iwazimodo.” It took 0.2 seconds for Iwaizumi to roar in outrage and grab a cushion, lunging towards Hanamaki with the intention to either smother him or beat him. Matsukawa had laughed himself into a position where he couldn’t move out the way quick enough and ended up being partially beaten with the cushion too, but it didn’t matter much because this shit always ended up happening at some point or another. 

Oikawa had rolled off the sofa and was crouched over on the floor with his forehead pressed into the carpet and howling with laughter into one hand whilst the other clenched his stomach. Hanamaki was victim to his own beating, until Iwaizumi eventually gave in to the laughter bubbling up within him too. 

Hunchback of Notre Dame still played in the background, but it was ignored in favour of the four boys sprawling across the sofa, floor, and each other, regaining their breaths and still breaking out into little peels of giggles. Matsukawa was the first to recover fully.

“You know we can never watch this movie again, right?”

“But it’s Disneeeeeey!”

“You’re the one who ruined it!”

“Now you’re just bullying me!”

“Excuse you?! Who just got called a Hunchback?! You think _I’m_ bullying you?!” Hanamaki cackled once more, ignoring Iwaizumi’s smack to the shoulder.

“Just wait until the others hear about this.” Iwaizumi’s face suddenly seemed to drain of all colour.

“Don’t you dare tell the underclassmen. Hanamaki Takahiro, don’t you DARE!” But Hanamaki had already taken a picture of the TV screen, Quasimodo front and centre, and sent it to the group chat, followed by ‘Iwazimodo’ underneath, with no content whatsoever. If they didn’t get the joke, shame on them. 

Hanamaki was sure they would, but he never got the chance to check and see if someone had replied before Iwaizumi snatched the phone out of his grasp, and snapped a photo of the dim-witted gargoyle, sending that to the chat with #Me following. Oikawa burst into laughter all over again, observing the chat through his own phone. Matsukawa rolled his eyes in amusement before collecting the empty glasses and bottles to go and refill. No doubt the others would have sore throats from laughing that hard too.

“We can never watch this movie again.” This time, it was Hanamaki who spoke those words, having glanced up at the screen and wheezed again. Oikawa shuffled forwards on hands and knees to stop the movie and remove the disc from the player.

“How about we watch something different~?” In unison, as Matsukawa entered the room, the three deadpan answered.

“Not ‘Warning From Space’.” Oikawa indignantly squawked, comically tearing up at the rejection.

“But you don’t see aliens as the good guys in many movies!”

“That’s because if aliens even existed, and did come to earth, it wouldn’t be to save us! They’d be here to collect resources or eliminate the weaker species for their own kind.” The Beta duo nodded in agreement, before Matsukawa piped in again, just to deliver the killer blow.

“Not that they exist anyways.”

“Mean! Rude! Biased! Aliens **do** exist!”

“No, Oikawa, they don’t.”

“Explain crop circles!”

“Hoaxers with too much time on their hands and a wooden plank.”

“LIES! _Real_ crops circles have no broken stalks, which a wooden plank would cause, and the stalks are enlarged by a pulse of electromagnetic energy that can’t be replicated on earth!”

“If it can’t be replicated, how did they know it was electromagnetic?” Iwaizumi took great delight in watching Oikawa stammer and blubber, trying to find the words to defend his strong beliefs. In the end, he just huffed and pouted, reaching into the DVD drawer.

“Fine. We’ll watch Pacific Rim.” Instantly, Iwaizumi was sitting up straight with a rare _excited_ look in his eyes. Pacific Rim wasn’t Godzilla, but it was the **best** movie outside the Godzilla franchise. It had action, huge mecha bots, Kaiju, plot twists, crazy science, more Kaiju, good graphics, and it showed that drift compatibility didn’t have to be romance. It could be friends, family, or someone you’d just met. But mostly, _sweet ass Kaiju._

“Guess we’re stuck with Iwaizumi lip-syncing the whole film then.”

“I do not.”

“You do. You don’t even realise it. You just start mouthing along.” Iwaizumi scowled, adding a little Omega snarl to it to get his point across. Settling back into position on the sofa, he took the refilled mug of green tea that Matsukawa passed him, watching Hanamaki gulp down half a glass of lemonade for his throat, laughed raw. 

His eyes turned back to Oikawa, who was hunched over and putting the DVD in the player whilst humming a light tune. Iwaizumi wondered if the Alpha knew he was swaying his butt to the tune, right in the path of his vision. He was so fixated on the sight, wondering if Oikawa knew what he was doing, that he missed Hanamaki leaning in until there was the sound of a cracked whip right in his ear. He jumped, making the Beta duo snicker before he growled at them in warning. 

They quickly settled down as Oikawa scrambled back to the sofa after pressing the play button.

“Issei, I’m cold. Pass the blanket.”

“Shh.”

“Get it yourself, I’m not your mother.”

“Shh!” Hanamaki grinned and turned to Iwaizumi.

“Hey, ‘mother’, pass me the blanket.” The elbow to his stomach was not entirely unjustified as both Iwaizumi _and_ Oikawa harshly shushed him. He rolled his eyes, moving to snuggle against Matsukawa instead. 

With a soft smile, despite having his eyes on the screen, Matsukawa wrapped an arm around Hanamaki and pulled him closer, until they were sharing each other’s warmth. Pressed this way, Matsukawa could place small kisses to Hanamaki’s forehead at random intervals, to which he responded with a quiet purr and pressing his nose against the gland. They knew they were being disgustingly romantic, but Oikawa and Iwaizumi were so engrossed in Pacific Rim, they didn’t even notice. 

Hanamaki felt a huff of laughter brush over his hair, before Matsukawa leaned in to whisper in his ear, almost inaudible.

“He’s doing it again; look.” Glancing over his shoulder, Hanamaki could see Iwaizumi leaning forwards, almost slipping off the edge of the sofa, his lips moving rapidly and perfectly in time with the characters on screen. He even imitated the emotions, which was always amusing as he switched from Newt blabbering about how awesome Knifehead was, to Rayleigh stoically stating _”My brother died in that attack.”_. 

Hanamaki couldn’t hide a snort, and Oikawa leaned backwards to peer over Iwaizumi with a finger raised to his lips. His brown eyes were glittering with mirth, a completely love-struck look as he glanced back to Iwaizumi to make sure he hadn’t been disturbed. 

He hadn’t. He was too absorbed in the movie for anything short of a real Kaiju to disturb him. Even if that did happen, he’d probably run towards it in awe. Hanamaki fake-gagged whilst Matsukawa sent a hand-heart Oikawa’s way, to which he blushed and flustered. Denial wasn’t just a river in Egypt. With matching smirks, they moved back to sit comfortably, their attention on each other as before, only flickering to the screen during battle scenes.

“D’you think Kaiju have dynamics too?” Oikawa, Hanamaki and Matsukawa jumped in shock. Of all people, _Iwaizumi_ had just interrupted his favourite movie, right at the point where Newt was preparing to drift with the mostly-dead offspring from Otachi. 

There was something strange in his eyes, some sort of unreadable expression that seemed to be a mix of curiosity, on the side of sadness. Oikawa tilted his head to the side.

“Well, it’s never mentioned, but I guess they could?”

“Then... Otachi would be an Omega, right? Because it was pregnant? Otachi would...” He trailed off, dropping his gaze to his hands which trembled in his lap, locked together tight enough that his knuckles were white. Instantly, the others knew what he was talking about, despite how cryptic it was. Hanamaki slung an arm over Iwaizumi’s shoulders gently. They chose not to mention that anyone of _any_ dynamic could bear children, instead focusing on what was truly important.

“Yeah. Otachi’s an Omega.” Matsukawa reached across Hanamaki to give Iwaizumi’s closest shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

“One hell of a badass Omega.” Gently, Oikawa reached out and placed a supportive hand over Iwaizumi’s clenched fists. They didn’t say anything about the way his eyes glossed with moisture, or his lips wobbled into a weak smile.

“Thank you... Thank you so much.” This time, when Oikawa pulled him into his lap, Iwaizumi didn’t fight back.

At some point in the evening, they’d all fallen asleep on the sofa. Tooru’s mother had come home from work and smiled at the sight of the four boys, all snuggled up together on the sofa with empty glasses and mugs on the table, and Wii remotes on their laps. The Wii had turned itself off, but she could see the open game case of Mario Kart. 

Picking up her son's phone, Oikawa-san entered the passcode and took a photo, before locking the phone and leaving it where it had been. She pulled the blanket off the back of the sofa, careful not to disturb them, and then laid it across their sleeping huddle. 

Iwaizumi mumbled and shuffled, but in the end he only pressed himself further into Tooru, and stretched his legs across Hanamaki’s lap, before settling back down.

“Sleep well, boys~.” She may have only been Tooru’s mother, but the other three treated her like a mother too, and she couldn’t help but love them as her own sons. It was an Omega thing. Something that, at some point, she would have to seriously talk about with Iwaizumi. Seeing as both his parents were Alpha, and rarely home anyways, she’d have to raise him and help him through this. 

It helped that he was close, even calling her “Aunty” despite there being no biological relation. Perhaps that was due to his lack of family support at home. Pressing a soft kiss to each of the four boy’s foreheads, she picked up the empty bottles and took them through to the kitchen on the tray. After a quick clean up and snacking on leftovers from breakfast, she left the teenagers alone and went to bed.

Morning brought new challenges. It was hard enough to get bathroom time before work when just her own child took up copious amounts time getting ready for school. How on earth was she supposed to get in there with _four_ boys all getting ready for their last few days of practice? It turns out, she didn’t have to worry.

“Iwa-chaaaaaan! Let me go! I need to beautify! To shower! To _do my hair!_ ”

“Shut up, Shittykawa! You’re old enough that you should be looking after Aunty, not the other way round!” Honestly, Iwaizumi was a saving grace and a blessing to this household. Oikawa-san copied her son’s usual victorious pose, winking with her tongue out the corner of her mouth and throwing up a peace sign, as she disappeared into the bathroom. She could hear Tooru whining and complaining to his friends through the locked door.

“She sassed me! Did you see that, Makki? My own _mother_ **sassed** me!”

“Yeah? I live with three older sisters. You don’t know what sass _IS_ until Fumiko, Aki, and Yuima get together. I swear, they intentionally band together to _slay_ their dear baby brother.”

“You’re easy to slay.”

“Oi, get your lazy asses downstairs for breakfast! We’ll be late otherwise!”

“Iwa-chan, don’t kick me!” Their voices faded, heading down to the kitchen where Matsukawa had offered to cook breakfast. For possibly the first time in three years, Oikawa-san was able to take a hot shower before work, seeing as Tooru hadn’t unintentionally used all the hot water. Feeling invigorated, she dressed in her work uniform, (A waitress didn’t earn much, but it was enough to get by and she loved the small cafe,) and came down the stairs. 

All four were seated around the table in the kitchen, silent as they ate. It was only something simple, rice and miso soup, but it had been cooked by someone else as a kind gesture and there was a plate on the side for her to delve into as well.

“Thank you, Issei~.” She ruffled his curly hair as she walked past, hearing his huff of amusement.

“No problem. I get the twins ready in the morning, so I’m used to dealing with two kids.” Tooru squawked and Iwaizumi growled through a mouthful of rice, Hanamaki laughing at them. It was intriguing to see how they all knew _exactly_ who he was referring to, despite the fact he hadn’t said anything. Oikawa-san joined Hanamaki in laughing, but she did pause to stand between the two ‘kids’ with a firm hand on of their shoulders and press a maternal kiss to their temples.

“Good morning, boys~.”

“Morning Mummy~!”

“G’morning, Aunty.” She moved to her own seat between Tooru and Hanamaki, complimenting Matsukawa on the breakfast as flavours exploded in her mouth. He had a knowing smirk, even as he thanked her politely. With conversation breaking out, Oikawa-san felt the warmth of family. None of the other boys were related, but they truly were family. Part of a pack. Oikawa-san was close with the Hanamaki and Matsukawa parents too, so it wasn’t strange at all that the children pretty much lived between homes. 

The only exception...

“Hey, Iwaizumi, isn’t your dad coming home tonight?” The Omega faltered, almost unnoticeable to anyone but his closest friends. Choosing not to mention it, because Iwaizumi would completely close up if they did, they waited for his reply. It took a moment before he spoke. There was tension in his voice.

“Yeah. Sorry, I won’t be coming to the party tonight.”

“That’s okay. Fumiko knows you’d come along if you could. Besides, it’s only the first thesis that’s been accepted. She still has, what, three more to go? You’ll definitely be coming to those ones.”

“Yeah. Course.” Tooru pouted before plastering on a smile and brushing against Iwaizumi.

“We’ll save you cake~!” Iwaizumi’s lips twitched up in a smirk and the tension dropped from his shoulders, the conversation turning towards brighter subjects. Still, Oikawa-San could pick up on the very faint distress signals from Iwaizumi. It was more of a discomfort than pure distress, and it was faint enough that only another Omega could pick up on it, but it was there nonetheless. The Iwaizumi’s were very distant people. Workaholics, they chose not to socialise and often lectured their son for not trying hard enough. For not being in the top class. For not being Alpha enough. 

It suddenly struck her that Iwaizumi’s father did not know he had presented. He did not know that his son, whom he had raised to be a top-notch Alpha, was actually an Omega.

“Hajime, sweetheart, can I talk to you for a moment?” He looked up, a little unsure in his facial expression.

“Oh, um, y-yeah, sure.” He placed his chopsticks down and followed Oikawa-san out into the back garden, sliding the door shut behind her so the others wouldn’t overhear. Out of earshot, Iwaizumi gave a shuddering breath and tensed up again, not due to the cold. Just as Oikawa-san was about to prompt him, Iwaizumi suddenly blurted it out, the odour of distress increasing dramatically.

“I- I don’t want to go home. Father will- He’ll be so angry. I’m not- Not his ‘little Alpha’ anymore. I’m not an _Alpha_ at all.” She pulled him into a hug, one hand on the back of his head and soothing him by weaving her fingers into his hair, the other arm low around his waist like a support bar.

“Shh... He might not be angry, Hajime...”

“You don’t know him... You don’t _know_ him. I I barely know him! He’s never home and whenever he is, it’s always _“Have you presented yet?”_ , _“I hope you’re looking for potential Omegan mates.”_ , and _“You’re going to be a strong Alpha.”_.” I’m so scared, Aunty. I’m **scared**.” It broke her heart a little, to see Iwaizumi falling apart so easily just at the mention of his father. To hear the strain in his voice when he admitted how terrified he truly was, even though his scent told her everything.

“Even if he’s angry... He won’t hurt you. You’re his son, no matter if he isn’t there most of the time.”

“What if he doesn’t see me as his son anymore, Aunty?” She couldn’t answer. Because she knew the answer. _“Then he could hurt you.”_

“... I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have dumped this on you.” He went to pull away, but Oikawa-san only tightened her hold on the boy she wished was her own child, so she could keep him safe from the things he feared, from the insecurities that ate away at him, from the doubts that sprouted from the seeds his own parents had placed inside him with their words and expectations.

“Now you listen here, Hajime. This is your home. It might not be your house, but this, as well as the Hanamaki and Matsukawa residences, are your homes. If you feel like you’re in danger, or if you’re troubled and need a rest, you come _straight_ here and let your pack take care of you. We’re here to protect you, from Alpha’s, from nightmares, from insecurities. Whenever you need us, you come on home. Understand?” 

She was offering him a safe place. Somewhere he could fall back on no matter what happened. A welcoming environment where he was free to be himself.

“I- I understand.” She wondered if he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will bump the rating up, all thanks to Oikawa and his imagination!


	13. Blackberries and Oikawa's very naughty thoughts.

Home time was usually the best part of the day, to a teenager in school. Especially the last couple of days of high school.  
Iwaizumi was dreading it.

He’d put off going home for as long as possible. He’d come to school early after sleeping over at Hanamaki’s, giving Fumiko his congratulations that morning, on the same day as the party. He’d apologised for not being able to attend, but she said she’d understood and wished him luck. 

With study periods over and lessons complete, Iwaizumi stood at the library doors with shaking hands. The librarian had left early, locking up the library as soon as the bell had chimed for end of school. 

He _could_ go and wander around the streets, but if he did that, he’d lose track of time and then his parents would be mad at his lack of punctuality.

“Iwaizumi-Senpai!” Already on edge, he jumped at the bright voice. Breathing out to steady himself whilst clutching at his chest, he turned to see Watari at the end of the corridor. He was waving enthusiastically, and Iwaizumi couldn’t help but huff a laugh and walk over to join him at the stairwell.

“Shouldn’t you be on your way to practice?”

“I just came out an exam. Shouldn’t _you_ be on your way to practice?”

“I thought Oikawa had told you I was forbidden.”

“From _playing_ , not from _watching_. Besides, you look like you could use the distraction.” A smile tugged at one half of Iwaizumi’s lips. Watari had just given him the perfect delay.

_“Sorry, I was side-coaching the underclassmen.”_ was the perfect excuse for coming home at the normal after club time. One that his parents would accept, knowing that he played volleyball and was well-respected by his kouhai. 

He hoped that would give his mother enough time to inform his father that Iwaizumi was _not_ an Alpha. And hopefully enough time for his father to calm down from the inevitable rage and disappointment. 

A bald head butted against his with a friendly purr and the strong scent of ocean water with water lilies enveloped him.

“Are you really trying to pack bond in the corridor?” He pushed Watari away playfully with a wide smirk.

“You were freaking out.”

“I was not!”

“You totally were!”

“Don’t be cheeky to your Senpai!” Grinning, Watari poked his tongue out between his teeth before _sprinting_ down the stairwell with shouts for other people to ‘move out the way, Beta coming through!’ 

Iwaizumi wasn’t one to turn down a challenge. He gave chase, sliding down the banisters at one point to get past Irihata on the stairs. He knew he was going to get shouted out, but it was so worth it as he laughed and gained on Watari, whom zigzagged across the corridor for no apparent reason. As they passed Kyoutani, the Alpha surprisingly raised his voice to shout after them.

“You’re only meant to do that if you’re getting shot at!” With a loud shriek at the enclosing space between them, Watari stopped zigzagging. 

Just before he could enter the clubroom, Kindaichi leaping backwards to avoid getting charged into, Iwaizumi pounced and landed directly atop the libero. They playfully wrestled right there in the hallway with Kindaichi wondering if he should intervene and Kunimi trying to egg him into betting on a winner. 

Irihata came skidding around the corner shouting at them to break it up, which was when Kindaichi decided, yes, he _should_ intervene. He lunged in and, _the cheek of it_ , lifted Iwaizumi up by the under arms, Lion King style. Kunimi was quick to take a photo, sniggering under his breath. 

No doubt that would join the ‘Iwazimodo’ joke in the group chat. Hanamaki was still determined to get Oikawa a goat, not that the captain was protesting. That was not the point at hand. As Kunimi helped Watari off the floor and Kindaichi set Iwaizumi back down, Irihata tapped his foot impatiently.

“There will be no running in the school corridors, no fighting in the corridors, and Iwaizumi! You’re not supposed to be doing _any_ strenuous exercise!” Rubbing at the back of his neck, Iwaizumi had the sense to bow apologetically.

“Sorry, Sensei. I got over excited because I thought I could come and watch practice today.” He straightened up when he heard a sigh.

“Of course you can. But you are _not_ to participate.”

“I didn’t intend to.” The first years had snuck away, into the sanctuary of the changing room, before they could be shouted out for any involvement. Watari wasn’t so lucky, seeing as he was right next to Iwaizumi.

“You can start by doing seven laps of flying falls.”

“Aww man... I mean, yes Sir!” Quickly, he darted into the changing room to get ready too. Irihata pat Iwaizumi on the shoulder as he passed, heading into the gymnasium. Automatically, he started to follow.

“Can I at least help set up?”

“I suppose so. Leave the heavy lifting to Matsukawa and Kindaichi though. In fact... Focus on checking the inflation of the balls.” He nodded and took the key tossed towards him to unlock the equipment cupboard. It wasn’t hard to find the trolley and the many bags of volleyballs, after so many years of preparing for each session. He felt his eyes water a little. 

Graduation was the day after tomorrow. This would probably be the last time he would step foot in this equipment cupboard, the last time he would help set up a practice, and he wasn’t even capable of doing as much as he wanted. 

Wiping at his eyes with his sleeve, he dragged the trolley out of the cupboard and then started putting the balls in it, squeezing each one with the heel of his hands to check they were inflated enough. He set aside a few that needed additional air. 

Mizoguchi had since arrived and was looking through the applications for those hoping to get into Aobajousai on volleyball skills.

“Coach, the pump isn’t where it should be. Do you know where it is?”

“I’m not sure. I asked Kyoutani to tidy up last time, to familiarise with the arrangement. He must have misplaced it.”

“Right. Never mind, I’ll find it.” Iwaizumi checked under all the benches at the side of the gymnasium, eventually finding it in the corner. He held it up to show Mizoguchi he had found it, receiving a nod in return. 

Cross-legged on the floor, he starting inflated the volleyballs to a standard amount, checking every few pumps. And then he paused. In his hands, with a tiny mark over a white stripe in permanent marker, was the Iwai-ball. He felt something build up in his throat as he stared at it and a stinging behind his eyes. 

So many precious memories were held in this gym, and his favourite ball was now in his hands, a thing that had come from happiness and team bonding, and he would have to leave it all behind. A whine escaped him as his eyes watered and he clutched the Iwai-ball tighter, curling in around it. 

He didn’t want to let go! He didn’t want to _leave!_ He’d found a pack that loved him, a team that fought alongside him with pride, friends that supported him, and an environment he could relax in, whilst doing the thing he loved most! 

He didn’t want to _leave it all behind!_

“Okay, it’s alright. Iwaizumi, take a deep breath for me, can you do that?” Mizoguchi’s voice filtered through the watery sensation around his ears, deep amongst the white static, and he thought he could feel a hand on his back, but it wasn’t alright, _nothing was alright, he was going to have to leave, and there would be nothing and-_. 

He shook his head, forehead rolling against the ball in his clutches as he hiccupped and choked and _couldn’t breathe, why was it so hard to breathe, was this a panic attack, he COULDN’T BREATHE-_

“Shh... You’re going to be alright. Yeah, Matsukawa, could you go and get the nurse? This is a full-blown episode. Yahaba, get over here, quickly. Kyoutani, go and get Oikawa.” Footsteps echoed through the white static like a hazy nightmare in an enclosed corridor, and Iwaizumi didn’t know what do, if he was supposed to be moving, or if it was okay to just sit here and _not breathe_ and feel faint, really faint, why were his lungs _**burning**_ -

“Iwaizumi, can you hear me?” A soft hand wrestled its way in through his curled up state and took a gentle grasp of one of his hands, pulling it away from the volleyball in his lap, and he tried to pull it back, because _“No! Don’t take it away from me!”_ wasn’t coming out of his constricted throat, but how else could he get the message across?

“Shh, shh, I’m not going to steal it, you’re okay... I just need you to squeeze my hand for yes, and leave it for no. Do you understand?” Iwaizumi may have squeezed the soft, gentle hand a little harder than necessary, but it was essentially a lifeline thrown to him in a desperate time of need. 

He felt a warm sigh of relief brush over his scalp, followed by a burst of Omega fragrance. Flour and honey and juniper eased his senses, blocking off some of the horrific combinations from the cold gymnasium floor, and squeaking shoes on the floor, his own thoughts swirling round like thick tar in a cauldron. 

The sweet, relaxing fragrance brought everything back down to earth. His own head was still stuffed with thoughts, and it was hard to focus, but he could hear the voice breaking through, like sunlight fighting through heavy storm clouds. He managed to link both the scent and the gentle hand to their secondary setter, Yahaba.

“Do you know where you are?” Squeeze.

“Can you talk to me, Senpai?” He didn’t squeeze. How could he talk when he couldn’t breathe?

“Are you scared?” ... Squeeze. Because he was. 

Everything he had come to know and love over the course of three years was about to be left behind. This pack he had become part of, the closest pack he had ever been in, was going to be torn apart by their graduation. 

They were abandoning something wonderful, something _safe_ , and there wasn’t any way Iwaizumi could be happy about that.

“Iwa-chan!” Bursts of liquorice and cumin infiltrated his senses, breaking through the flour, honey and juniper. Instantly, he lifted his head and opened his mouth to call out to Oikawa, to _Alpha_ , and he ended up choking on a huge gulp of air.

“Easy there, Iwa-chan.” Whilst Yahaba was curled up to him on one side, and Mizoguchi knelt next to him on the other, hoping to have a calming effect by rubbing his back, Oikawa was crouched down in front of him, looking him straight in the eye. 

He could tell it was Oikawa, even though his sight blurred and spun, because he could pick out the fair skin, the light brown hair, his soft yet demanding (often annoying) voice, and that _scent_. It was something Iwaizumi wanted to envelop himself in, a comfort blanket where he could hide away from the world. 

Yahaba muttered to Oikawa, and then the setter huffed calmly. How was he so calm? Iwaizumi couldn’t breathe, and-

Having only been halfway through changing when Kyoutani burst in and dragged him towards the gym, Oikawa pulled off his school blazer and draped it over Iwaizumi’s shoulders. 

It was too big for him by a tiny amount, but when he hunched over and curled up small like this, it drowned him. Iwaizumi’s anguished expression wobbled as he whimpered and whined, unintentionally burying his face in the shoulder pad of the uniform blazer. 

It smelt like Oikawa. It smelt like home. It smelt like _everything he was leaving behind and he **couldn’t take it anymore.**_

The hyperventilating panic shattered into a heart-wrenching wail that had the team flinch in the agony that suddenly erupted in their chests. 

Hanamaki and Kindaichi abandoned the net support poles to the ground, letting them clatter to the floor where they were as they scampered over to support their suffering pack Omega. 

Kunimi, whom had only just entered the gymnasium after changing extra slowly, jogged over at a softer pace, so he didn’t make too much noise which would add to the jumble and confusion that Iwaizumi was no doubt feeling. 

Watari glimpsed over at Irihata, who only gave him a sad nod, before he pushed out of one last flying fall and joined the fray. 

Mizoguchi moved away to let the team take care of him, their support needed much more than the constant rubbing on the back he could give.

“That came out of nowhere.” He sat himself down near to Irihata, picking up his previously forgotten paperwork. The older hummed in thought, reading through a clipboard that contained all the data he’d collected on the current second and first years.

“Rather the opposite. It’s been brewing for a while.”

“I didn’t even notice...”

“Iwaizumi’s done a lot to surprise us lately, but this... I expected it at some point or another. He’s overwhelmed by the shock of having presented Omega, and this is a safe place where he won’t be judged for letting it out. It could potentially have happened in a home environment, but from the parent-teacher conferences, I understand that this is where he spends the majority of his time.” Mizoguchi breathed out a soft ‘oh’, letting his gaze drift to the pile of teenagers on the floor.

“He’s not... Being abused, is he?”

“No, no. It’s more along the lines of neglect, but unfortunately, there are no rules in place that allow the school to intervene in these circumstances. If it does turn to abuse... There’s only one day left for us to act. It seems unlikely.” With a sinking feeling in his chest, Mizoguchi observed as Matsukawa brought the school nurse over to the pile, shooing his teammates away from the Ace so the kind nurse could give him special repressor tablets. They were created specifically for Omega panics and breakdowns. 

Getting Iwaizumi to actually take them, however...

“Hajime, you need to swallow these. Can you do that for me?”A shake of the head, pressed back against the ball in his lap because he wanted to hide his face, to preserve his last shred of dignity. 

He remembered his father always telling him to be proud, to never cry, to not be _weak_ , and Iwaizumi was ashamed because he was breaking all three of those rules. 

If he’d been an Alpha, it might have resulted in a lecture. But being an Omega... Unforgivable. He’d be thrown to the streets. Disowned.

He didn’t want that! As much as they were absent, he _loved_ his parents! They’d raised him to be a first-class Alpha, for his own good, and that meant they cared! They’d given _everything_ for his future, and he’d gone and ruined it by presenting Omega. Then ruined it more by crying. By giving in to weakness. By losing his pride.

“We don’t see it that way, Senpai...” He’d forgotten Yahaba could read him like a book, an Omega like him. As he tilted his head up to look towards his Omegan support, something pressed against his lips. 

The smooth pill was pushed into his mouth, and then Oikawa was smirking at him, thumb still resting on Iwaizumi’s lips. He instinctively swallowed, out of sheer nervousness at the possibility of what actions could follow.

_“Is he... Going to kiss me?”_ But instead, Oikawa’s eyes crinkled as he smiled a toothy grin.

“That’s my Iwa-chan~.” Whatever was in the pill started to kick in almost instantaneously. His heart stopped pounding so hard, like it was trying to break out of his chest. His throat started to open up instead of constricting around empty air and unspoken words. His head was swarming much less, instead calming to the point where he could think and see straight. The crippling panic he had worked himself into was ebbing away. 

With a shaky exhale, he flopped boneless into the arms all around him.

“Easy, easy...” His limbs started to feel limber, opposite to the brittle lead they had felt like before.

“M’okay.” His light grunt drew sighs of relief from all around, a myriad of scents flowing over him. They mingled and mixed together, but he knew exactly who was who.

Liquorice with the tingle of spices, most specifically cumin, was Oikawa. It was strong, Alphan scent, but mixed sweetly to match his overall silly personality. It was a fragrance that a person either loved or hated, much like Oikawa himself.

Pine trees and cashew nuts, a relaxing aroma of camping in the earthy woods, belonged to Matsukawa. It made sense, with his down-to-earth personality. It was probably the most relaxing scent on the team, which was why Iwaizumi found himself drawn towards him in this period of great peril and stress.

Also nutty, much like the person himself, Iwaizumi thought, was Hanamaki’s individual scent. Nutella leaked from his gland, the most noticeable of his mix. Maybe it was because he ate the damn thing like it was supposed to be consumed a jar a day.   
Cotton was the light under-scent, reflecting on that hidden softness Hanamaki possessed.

Yahaba was, most obviously, flour, honey and juniper. They were all common Omega smells, but they were mixed in a unique way that almost gave the illusion of a fresh baked pie. It suited him, Iwaizumi thought. Plus, who didn’t love a pie? In the same way, Yahaba was much adored.

Water lilies, from far off ponds in the land of the dragon, belonged to Watari. It would be exotic, if not the familiar aroma of the salty ocean, washing over the lilies in waves reminiscent of, well, the ocean.   
Unique as the libero himself, Watari’s Beta cologne could easily be manipulated to smell either Omegan, or Alphan. It worked wonders for breaking up fights, or cheering up a tearful someone.

Kyoutani was fiery smoke, thick and grey with flickers of ash and glowing embers in its midst. Almost violent in nature, the odour would be enough to put anyone off. But there was something underneath.   
Bacon. Gently tendered meat, cooked to perfection and sizzling in a pan. Underneath the heavy smoke, it was hard to detect unless Kyoutani let his guard down. Iwaizumi could always tell when he was relaxed, or riled up.

Blackberries and soil-... Blackberries and soil? Where had that come from? There wasn’t anyone on the team who carried that scent, but it was coming across strong and new and- _New?_

Iwaizumi’s eyes flickered up to Yahaba, who had the same confused expression on his face as his nose twitched. Omega’s, however, where not the most sensitive of dynamics to other people. Beta’s were. 

Iwaizumi suddenly understood as Matsukawa tugged Kunimi out of their huddle by the wrist, guiding him away to sit at the side. The first year was shivering, instantly wrapping his arms around his torso as he presented. 

Their youngest member was presenting Beta. Oikawa sighed and rose to his feet, rubbing the back of his neck. It was something he only did when he was acting as a reliable captain.

“Mattsun, can you take care of him?”

“Yeah, I got him. Should be over in an hour or two.” Beta presentation was different in that it was the complete opposite to Omega and Alpha presentations. 

Instead of going into heat, they dipped into a hypothermic freeze. Instead of becoming increasingly aggressive and wanting to destroy, they became cuddly and clingy, just wanting comfort. They didn’t lose their minds or consciousness, staying as themselves but just feeling very, _very_ sick. 

It was sort of like an extreme flu accompanied with period pains and the sensation of being dipped in icy water. Luckily, it only lasted four hours **at most**. Hanamaki had unfortunately been at that end of the scale, with Matsukawa being the complete opposite with only 20 minutes inactive.

What differed most, however, was that Omega’s and Alpha’s went through cycles of heats and ruts. Beta’s were irregular when they fell into a chill, although they had never been recorded to happen more than once a week.

“Do you need any blankets? I think we have some in the clubroom. Oh! And a hot water bottle too.”

“That’d be great. Can someone go get them please?”

“I’m on it!” Kindaichi sprung from his place to go and get the mentioned items. As much as he was worried about Iwaizumi, his best friend came first. A sense of relief filled him as soon as he realised what was going on. 

Kunimi had confessed to him before that he was _terrified_ of being an Omega, after seeing what it had done to Iwaizumi, and what could be done to him. Now, Kunimi was presenting Beta. 

All his fears and worries could be pushed to the side as he focused on getting through the next couple of hours. The blankets and hot water bottle were on top of the lockers, Kindaichi reaching up on tip-toes to retrieve them. He hummed to himself as he filled the water bottle to the brim, before swiftly jogging back.

“I got them.”

“Thanks, Kin.” People had moved around in the short time of his absence, heading more towards normality. Players were warming up in various spots around the gymnasium, and the sounds of volleyball were a welcome distraction from all the drama that had just happened. 

Yahaba was still sat next to Iwaizumi near the door to the equipment cupboard, until he could gather his surroundings enough to stand. Kindaichi snickered as he knelt in front of Kunimi, whom was lying across a bench clutching at his stomach. He pressed the hot water bottle into Kunimi’s arms.

“You sure have a knack for timing~.”

“Sh-shut up... I didn’t know it was gonna happen. It’s early.” Tucking the blankets in, Kindaichi felt a twist of guilt at making fun of him whilst he was in such a state.

“How are you feeling?”

“Cold. Sick. Gross. Clingy.” From beneath the blankets, with the hot water bottle now giving him the warmth and pressure he needed on his stomach, Kunimi wiggled his hands out and reached towards Kindaichi. He huffed in amusement, granting the newly-presented Beta a warm and comforting hug. Fingers tightened in his shirt like he was never going to let go, and Kindaichi laughed gently.

“I have to practice, you know?”

“Practice later. I don’t want to be alone.”

“You’re not alone, we’re right here.” One of the hands on his back slapped him a little.

“You know what I mean.” He did. Softly, he squeezed a little tighter to offer comfort. Kunimi seemed to relax into it until Kindaichi went to pull away. He groaned reluctantly before releasing his grasp.

“I hope it doesn’t feel this bad the entire time.” Before Kindaichi could say anything comforting, Hanamaki chimed in from nearby, a teasing lilt to his voice.

“It gets worse before it gets better!” Kunimi groaned with an antagonised grunt. That was when a weight suddenly landed right by his feet. He lifted his head to glance over and saw Iwaizumi slouched over, Yahaba pulling away from supporting him over.

“Think you’ll be okay now?”

“Yeah, everything’s starting to come back into focus.” Yahaba smiled and pressed a supportive kiss to Iwaizumi’s forehead, before skipping off to practice. Iwaizumi swayed in his spot before he shook his head, exhaled deeply, and sat back against the wall with his head thrown back. 

His eyes were closed to fight against the stinging the bright gymnasium lights, but he still looked to be in a grandiose amount of pain, his breath hitching with every inhale and wheezing on the exhale. His panic had left his lungs struggling for air, even as the pills helped and he calmed. 

With a small amount of hesitation, Kunimi couldn’t believe what he was about to do. What his presentation instincts were _begging_ him to do.

“Senpai...?” He moved to sit up, wincing at the ache erupting in his stomach as the hot water bottle slipped. Iwaizumi’s attention snapped to him, like he’d only just noticed Kunimi right next to him, and he understood. 

He lifted up the arm closest to Kunimi, and the first year instantly wriggled around so that he could rest his head on Iwaizumi’s lap, burrowed up against him in all his blankets and pain. A calloused palm landed flat on his head before softly stroking through, the action autopilot. Kunimi wondered if Iwaizumi even knew he was doing it.

“Left! Left!” On the court, practice had conjoined with the second string players, who may move up into first string once the third-years graduated, and a game of King of the Court had broken out. The players had grouped into trios, with a set of three on each line. 

Currently, on the winner’s side, Oikawa had Kindaichi and a second year from second string. Yahaba was playing with two second string players from Kunimi’s year, not that he ever spoke to them. He was unintentionally shy and cold. 

Challenging them was Matsukawa, Kyoutani, and a first year. The back line of challengers was made up of Hanamaki, Watari, and a second year that Kunimi had spoken to _once_.

“Hit it hard!” Yahaba set the ball up, the spike coming down unfortunately in the direction of the libero, who grinned and easily sent it to the first year on the front challenging line. He looked to be a bundle of nerves, even bursting out into apology as the ball left his hands for Kyoutani to slam over the net. 

As they ducked under the net to take the front court of the winner’s side, Matsukawa congratulated both his underclassmen, making sure to ‘accidentally’ nudge Oikawa as he stomped with his team to the back of the waiting lines. 

Hanamaki’s team moved to front court of the challenger’s side, and a trio of second-string players from Yahaba’s class took the back court. Rotating this way meant that everybody got a chance to play, and Mizoguchi could evaluate which players worked well with each other, if any tandem plays could possibly be created, or where to fill the gaps the third years would leave.

“Whoa, you okay?” Watari had ended up moving too far forwards and entangling himself in the net. He shook it off with a laugh. Net touches, or even jumping straight into the net, were a common occurrence. Rarely did it result in injury, but there was the risk of dislocated fingers or a nasty friction burn from the netting material.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Sorry about that!” Hanamaki pat him on the back as they left the front court of the challenger’s side for the second-string trio to take over, Oikawa giving a whoop of joy as he stepped onto back court. 

The game continued, with laughter breaking out at several points, and the usual shouting included in volleyball. Kunimi’s lips tugged up into a smile. He could see why Iwaizumi picked this as a safe place. It really did feel like home. It _smelt_ like home, now that he, as a Beta, could pick up the scent of other dynamics. 

Still, that wasn’t predominately where his thoughts were. He still shivered, even under the weights of the blankets. The only part of him that felt warm was his cheek, pressed against Iwaizumi’s thigh.

“Akira?” The soft whisper of his name almost went unheard under a cheer of victory from Yahaba’s trio.

“Mhm?”

“You _can_ move closer, you know. I don’t bite. Much.” He huffed in amusement, scooting his blankets up further as he wriggled up against Iwaizumi’s side. Resting his head against the Ace’s shoulder, knees drawn up to Iwaizumi’s side, Kunimi felt a warm arm wrap around him and pull him as close as physically possible. 

Iwaizumi’s cheek brushed the side of his face with a gentle burst of rainy days, cream, and the faint twang of cinnamon. A light purr sprung forth from his throat, and Kunimi found himself returning it. 

Iwaizumi had already made it very clear, unintentionally, that he saw the first years as his pups. There was no point trying to deny it when he craved the comfort and reassurance. The sound of a volleyball hard impacting a face echoed in the gym.

“Oikawa!!! Are you okay?!” Iwaizumi glanced up to see Oikawa staring in his direction, eyes wide and face sore and red, with blood trickling from his nose. His eyes were filled with unshed tears, but beyond that lay an adoring twinkle. 

Without tearing away his gaze, he gave a thumbs up to Matsukawa, who had been the one that spiked the ball.

“... Oikawa, you’re leaking Alpha scent.” The Captain shook off his stupor to reel in his scent, clearing his throat and wiping his nose on his arm.

“W-Well these things happen!”

“Looovestruck.”

“Completely blinded by love.”

“Gross.”

“Disgusting.”

“Okay, okay! Thank _you_ , Mattsun, Makki. I get it!” He sighed as he marched over to where Irihata was summoning him, a cooling pad and a cloth at the ready to treat the nosebleed. It wasn’t his fault! Iwaizumi had just looked so _adorable_ that he couldn’t help stopping and staring! 

With Kunimi huddled up to his side, he’d looked like an actual angel. A cuddly, muscular angel with a bad temper and tsundere personality. All Oikawa had been able to think was _“I want that to be with **our** pup.”_

And it had gone downhill from there, time going in reverse as he thought things he probably should not have. 

Imagining Iwaizumi ruffling the hair of a kid that looked like a mix of them. Laughing and playing with their child. Walking the kid to the first day of school and pretending he wasn’t about to cry. Teaching their toddler how to walk and talk. Feeding a baby, rocking it to sleep and then returning to Oikawa’s arms for a romantic evening. 

Iwaizumi allowing himself to be spoiled rotten in the late stages of _pregnancy_. Coming home from work to find his Omega curled up on the sofa, hands resting on a rotund belly. Shopping together and reading through the back of boxes to make sure nothing would harm their foetus. The joy of discovering Iwaizumi was carrying a pup, after so long of trying.

Oh, the _trying_.

Those had been the thoughts still circulating his mind before the volleyball had (literally) smacked him out of it. Oikawa licked his top lip, tasting blood that had dripped down before he could wipe it away. It was metallic and gross, but the distraction was exactly what he needed, otherwise his naughty thoughts would-...

... Give him a boner. Of course. Trying to stop it from happening had been a little stupid, considering he had already felt his boxers tighten before he realised he was bleeding. Luckily, it didn’t seem like anyone else had noticed yet. He quickly plastered on a convincing facade.

“Sensei, it hasn’t stopped bleeding. I’m gonna go to the toilets to clean up~.”

“Alright, don’t be too long.” He was half-running out the door as he threw a hand up to acknowledge he had heard that, before pausing outside the gymnasium to awkwardly readjust his shorts and walk as casually as possible over to the clubroom. 

He locked it from the inside and checked his nose had stopped bleeding before throwing the tissues away. Licking his dry lips, Oikawa moved to Iwaizumi’s locker. One hand input the number to unlock it, whilst the other trailed down to the front of his shorts, palming though the material to elicit a soft groan. 

Towards the back of Iwaizumi’s locker, he pulled out a hand towel that the Ace had forgotten to take home. He held it to his nose, inhaling deeply. Cinnamon wafted in his face, followed by the sweetness of cream, and finally joined by the notable fragrance of rain on the pavements, cleansing the air. Oikawa’s lips parted with a sharp exhale of pleasure.

“Iwa-chan~...” Coolly, he moved over to the bench opposite the lockers and sat with his legs parted. Inhaling the imprinted scent left behind on the cloth, he gave into his thoughts, imagining that Iwaizumi was sitting here next to him, that the fabric against his face was Iwaizumi pressed against him, standing above him and leaning into him, eager to sink down onto the cock Oikawa pulled from his shorts. 

He quickly licked all over the palm of his hand – crude, but it worked – and pretended the wetness of his hand wrapping around his tender penis was an Omega’s slick dripping down warm thighs and preparing Iwaizumi for a smooth penetration.

“Iwa- Hajime~!” He started moving his hands up and down, pressing his thumb over the slit and squeezing the head experimentally, as if dipping it inside _his_ Omega, just enough to make Iwaizumi whine and try to drop his hips down more. 

Oikawa imagined, and he moaned as he extended his hand as much as he could to jerk himself off, feeling a knot travelling from base to head, the cloth providing Iwaizumi’s scent like he was here, like he was Oikawa’s to claim, like he was about to be filled and-

With a quiet gasp, biting into the cloth to muffle any louder sounds that escaped, Oikawa felt the tightening in his abdomen suddenly unravel itself, semen escaping in spurts over his own hand and stomach. He breathed heavily and continued to rub up and down until he was flaccid and knotless once more, and a cum covered mess. 

The heat that had pooled in his cheeks and crotch suddenly returned to his ears and neck in embarrassment because _he had jerked off to his best friend._

That might not have felt as sinful if it wasn’t for the fact it was the first time he’d considered anything past mutual masturbation. This time around, he had imagined Iwaizumi _riding_ him, in the **clubroom**. 

It felt like it was immoral to dirty this sacred place of volleyball and friendship, but the damage. Was. Done. Despite that, Oikawa couldn’t help but wickedly smile, pleased with himself and practically glowing with after-pleasure.

“Sorry, Iwa-chan~.” Really, he wasn’t sorry in the slightest. He wanted it to happen. He _wanted_ to tarnish every corner he had ever fallen deeper in love with Iwaizumi in, which was pretty much the whole gymnasium and clubroom. Occasionally the corridors at school. 

Humming as he turned on the shower, Oikawa wondered if he could convince his childhood friend and intended Omega to do the dirty with him in at least one place... Just for one last good memory. He washed himself in the warm spray, speculating the place most likely for him to agree.

The shower cubicles were rather private, but there was nowhere except the cold hard floor and cold tiled walls to lean against. Definitely not a good idea. It would be slippery and wet, the atmosphere chilly. The acoustics were _amazing_ , but then he remembered that this was where Iwaizumi had hurt himself, and suddenly he was completely put off.

The clubroom had benches, but Oikawa had been uncomfortable sitting there and moving his hips back and forth, the spaces between the grates pinching at his delicate flesh. There was the option of lying Iwaizumi down and roughly fucking him whilst standing up, rolling his hips forwards into the whimpering Omega, but the benches were too low for that. 

Not to mention if someone had a spare key and walked in on them. He wouldn’t mind an audience, but Iwaizumi was shy.

He could imagine taking Iwaizumi from behind in the gymnasium, but the realisation at how big the room really was put him off. As much as he’d love to hear the noises the Omega made amplified and echoed, there were too many windows and doors. 

No privacy whatsoever. The gymnasium also smelt of mingled scents, trails from their friends and teammates. There was no way Oikawa would be able to get it up if he kept thinking of Yahaba, Watari and Kyoutani... Maybe. If he could, he’d feel guilty. Or even worse, the first years. He physically shuddered.

One of the only other options he could think of was the equipment cupboard. As he rinsed away the cobweb patterns on his stomach, he felt the fire in his belly burn up again. It was perfect. 

There were no windows, it would be completely abandoned after practice, and it was dark enough to give the illusion of privacy. There were multiple levels from all the equipment, things they could experiment against with a multitude of different positions, and the equipment room only ever had the fragrance of sports balls and musk. 

Not to mention, the safety mats were soft and large enough to lay down on, placing himself between Iwaizumi’s legs and thrusting up into him as their lips met and voices tangled-

“Not now, dick. I’ve already given in to you once.” He pushed his erection down, focusing on showering to get clean and switched the water temperature to _utterly freezing_. Oikawa was proud he didn’t shriek; biting his bottom lip as the cold water abruptly jolted him out of the pleasurable haze he had sunk into. No more naughty thoughts, he vowed. 

Drying off and changing back into his volleyball uniform, Oikawa sprinted from the clubroom back to the gymnasium. He’d taken a _little_ longer than he’d initially planned. He wasn’t surprised to see that Coach had moved in to take his spot, making sure Kindaichi and the second-string player wouldn’t miss out. 

Mizoguchi wasn’t a setter by by means, having been a Wing Spiker in his own time as a player. Still, it was amusing to watch.

“Oikawa, did you get your nose treated?” Turning his attention to Irihata, he held up his hand in a divers ‘Okay’ symbol, tilting his head to the side and the corners of his eyes crinkling.

“Piece of cake~.”

“Good, jump back in then. We’ll finish King of the Court in ten minutes, so be prepared to lead the rest of practice.”

“Right!” The cogs in his head already working, Oikawa went to save their Coach, when a voice called out from behind.

“Oikawa.” He froze. Had Iwa-chan realised!? No, no, of course not... There was no way _in hell_ Iwaizumi would have figured out that Oikawa’s escape had been for the sole purpose of being able to masturbate. Right...?

“Y-yes, Iwa-chan~?” He was vaguely aware that he both sounded and looked terrified, but that was okay, because Iwaizumi usually beat him over the head with a volleyball at this point. Curiously, he noticed that Iwaizumi was entirely relaxed, focused on just getting Kunimi through his presentation freeze.

“Numbers 5, 9, 10, and 14 need to work on receiving. Numbers 8, 11, and 17 need to work on spiking. 15 looks like he has good setting skill, but it’ll need work to improve. He’s just behind Yahaba when he started.” Oikawa mock saluted.

“Roger! Thanks, Iwa-chan~!” Internally, he gave a huge sigh of relief before moving back to his place in King of the Court, reliving Mizoguchi of the duty. Honestly, he actually looked like someone had just sold his soul for a yen coin.

“Good work, Oikawa.” He managed to hold his head high as he returned to the bench and picked up the _damn piles of paperwork_. Irihata snickered at the despondence on his face, and Mizoguchi only had time to send him a short glare before picking up his pencil and starting to go through the forms once more. 

The scratching of the pencil against paper was a relaxing sound, Kunimi thought, as he tried not to cry a little at the dull ache that spread across his lower back and spine, forming a pit where he thought his appendix might be. He remembered overhearing people with vaginas talking about this sort of sensation, whenever they discussed periods.

_“If part of being a Beta is having periods, please let this be a nightmare. I want to go back to unpresented.”_ He had half a mind to ask someone, but his limbs and jaw and voice box felt like jelly as a thumb circled over the nap of his neck, warm and constant in reassuring and comforting him through his presentation. 

His own mother, if he’d presented at home, would have done the exact same thing. Iwaizumi might not have any pups of his own, but he could have fooled Kunimi. He was there, like a solid rock, knowing exactly the right things to do even if it was only on instinct. 

He had experienced hands, despite not being experienced at all. For someone who had been raised an Alpha, and was constantly in Alphan company, Iwaizumi was an _amazing_ Omega.

“Akira?” Iwaizumi must have felt the lazy eyes land on him. Kunimi hazily mumbled a _‘Don’t stop’_ , which was answered with that beautiful tree bark chuckle. The thumb paused for a moment to press down gently, before resuming going in circles. Nestled against each other, the two fell into an understanding silence, almost like the rest of the gymnasium didn’t exist.

“Good work everyone! Let’s clean up good today!” _That_ breaks the haze, because practice is over and they have to move and it’s time to go **home** -

Iwaizumi tenses up on the spot, forgetting to breathe until he hears the new Beta next to him question him, the words blurred into a single smudged voice. He pushes all the air out of his lungs in one fell swoop, hating the way it burned, but loving that it was _him_ doing the hurting. 

Because if his father at home decided he didn’t recognise the _Omega_ as his son, Iwaizumi wasn’t going to be in control of who hurt him.

“Senpai... Senpai!” He jolted as someone shook his shoulder. Kunimi had shrugged off the blankets, his presentation ebbing away into simple aches, and was trying to bring him back to reality. He shook his head frantically, shaking away all those bad thoughts. 

There was no guarantee his father would be _that_ mad, possibly. He could easily run away. He could go to Hanamaki’s, slip in with the crowds at Fumiko’s congratulation party; pretend he had been there the whole time.

“You look really unfocused, Senpai, can you hear me?”

“Yes, yes... Sorry Akira. I was- Home time- I mean...” A soft hand squeezed his, with liquorice swirling in his senses. Oikawa smiled down at him, almost sympathetic. It was closer to pity, really. Iwaizumi resisted the urge to smack the ‘sympathy’ off his face.

“Come on, Iwa-chan. I’ll walk you home.”

“... Fine.” _“Please.”_ He didn’t need to say it for Oikawa to understand, pulling him to his feet. They gave their goodbyes, Oikawa not bothering to go and change out of volleyball gear. Hanamaki liberally threatened Oikawa with multiple things he would do if he left him and Matsukawa to suffer the party alone. Iwaizumi couldn’t help but huff in amusement.

“I think he’s learning from me.”

“That would be terrible. One Iwa-chan is more than enough.” Iwaizumi smirked, but it lacked his usual enthusiasm.

“No worries. After tonight, you might be free.”

“Wh-What?” Oikawa looked at him ludicrously, completely horrified by what the Ace was implying. Iwaizumi shrugged. Their linked hands squeezed each other at the same time, one in comfort, the other as an affectionate _“Don’t worry about it.”_

With a sigh, Oikawa realised he wasn’t going to get a clear answer on that, although he fully understood the connotations. Any comfort he could have offered, Iwaizumi was completely rejecting. He just didn’t want to talk about it.

“Hey, Iwa-chan?”

“Mhm?”

“... If- If you get time, please come to the party. I know you stayed at Makki’s last night, but Mattsun and I are staying over too tonight. It won’t be as fun without you.”

“... You say this stuff after complaining about one of me being too much.”

“Iwa-chaaaaaan.” Iwaizumi snickered, brushing his shoulder against Oikawa.

“Alright, alright. I’ll have dinner with my family and then come over.”

“Don’t eat too much~! We’re all bringing snacky bits!” Iwaizumi’s house came into view with his dad’s car in the driveway, and Iwaizumi shivered on reflex. The atmosphere, no matter how much he loved his parents, was about to become a lot colder.

“I’ll see you later, Oikawa.”

“Good luck, Iwa Iwa...” A light punch impacted his arm, lingering for a second before Iwaizumi pulled away and disappeared into the house. Oikawa stood still, holding his breath, for what felt like an hour. With complete silence, he had no idea what was going on in that house. 

Helpless, he turned around and headed home. After all, he had to beautify for a party so he could grace these mere mortals with his presence~! He giggled at the thought, adjusting the shoulder strap of the bag. Before the make-up and the clothes and the glitter, however, he still had one thing to do.

Bake.

Oikawa Tooru was going to bake brownie bites from a translated British recipe, from the internet. It could only end in perfection, he assured himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yooooo, the rating finally went up!!!   
> (That's the whole reason I've been dawdling on posting this lmao)  
> Also can you see that I love Mizoguchi and would die for him?
> 
> Any spelling/grammatical errors live there now. It's their home. Please do not disturb them.
> 
> Thanks for reading, please leave a kudos if you made it this far~!  
> Comments would be amazing!!!!


	14. Vanity and Vengeance.

It could only end in disaster, he realised. Giggles erupted from behind him, a safe distance from the kitchen, followed by the flash of a phone camera. He whirled around on his mother.

“Mummy! No! Stop! _Stooooop!!!_ ” All over his upper half, Oikawa was coated in what remained of an exploded monster-brownie. 

During mixing the batter, he’d dropped flour on the floor and a puff of white had clung to him since then. He’d attempted to crack an egg on the edge of the kitchen counter, and ended up completely smashing it. Egg goo stuck to his hand and left ribs, with a light splatter in his hair and across his cheek. Chocolate smeared around his mouth from where he had kept snacking on partially melted chocolate chips, and it had dripped down his front too.

The final blow had been when he’d taken the brownie ‘bites’ out of the oven, mourning the fact they had spread and clumped together in a crusty, burnt pile, and then poked it with a knife to check if the centre was baked. 

It wasn’t. 

Brown goo had been swirling around an air bubble that Oikawa Tooru, Volleyball extraordinaire and baking failure, had popped with the knife. He whined petulantly as his mother just took more photos. From the sound of his phone dinging on the side, also covered with egg splatter, she was sending them to him.

“You’re a horrible, horrible parent.”

“Oh honey, I just knew exactly what was going to happen.” Oikawa pouted, sinking to the flour covered floor with his head in his hands.

“B-But I promised Makki I’d bring brownie bites! Now what am I going to do...?” A rattling drew his attention. His mother stood smugly, one hand on her hip and an eyebrow rose as she shook a Tupperware tub of – just what Oikawa had failed to make – Brownie bites. His jaw hung slack for a moment.

“Wh-Where did you get those?!”

“Hajime text me earlier with a recipe~.” Oikawa puffed out his cheeks in irritation. Betrayal! Not just from his mother, but from his best friend!

“Go and get changed, Tooru. I know you take three hours to get ready.” He grabbed a cloth to wipe up as best he could, specifically the broken egg, before shaking his entire body to get rid of the flour in a cloud of powder. His mother simply laughed harder at him, as he stomped up the stairs to get ready. Or rather, to get _fabulous_. 

It was a good two and a half hours later when finally stepped out of the bathroom, showered, dressed, and with full make-up. Best to go with dramatic golden eyeshadow and thick flicks in glitter navy. 

A little lip gloss added a perfect apricot shine to his already beautiful lips, the colour complemented with a soft ivory foundation and copper bronzer. With rainbow glitter spray in his hair, just because it made him feel good, Oikawa moved to his bedroom to take a few photos in front of the mirror to send to the group chat. The replies were almost instantaneous.

**Matsukawa** , 7:42pm  
 _Gross._

 

**Hanamaki** , 7:42pm  
 _Repulsive._

 

**Yahaba** , 7:42pm  
 _Isn’t the glitter a little overboard?_

 

**Watari** , 7:42pm  
 _Wow! You look really great!_

 

**Oikawa** , 7:43pm  
 _UM RUDE._  
 _RUDE._  
 _Glitter is never overboard~_  
 _This is why you’re my favourite, Watacchin._

 

**Matsukawa** , 7:44pm  
 _Gay_

 

**Hanamaki** , 7:44pm  
 _Mad gay_

 

**Oikawa** , 7:45pm  
 _Go suck a dick_

 

**Hanamaki** , 7:45pm  
 _I’m up for that. Mattsun?_

 

**Matsukawa** , 7:45pm  
 _Be there in two_

 

**Oikawa** , 7:46pm  
 _I can’t believe you said that IN FRONT OF THE KIDS_

 

**Yahaba** , 7:46pm  
 _TMI. Also, please don’t scar the first years. Kindaichi is an innocent bean and must be protected._

 

**Watari** , 7:47pm  
 _I don’t think they’re online._  
 _Don’t take too long Matsukawa and Hanamaki, I’m just leaving the house now, be there in 15_

 

When neither Matsukawa nor Hanamaki replied, Oikawa instantly realised they must actually been serious and starting the deed. With a grumpy huff, he put his phone back down on the side. Only Watari had complimented his selfies, and then it had all been forgotten! What a disappointment.

“Tooru! Time to go!” He grabbed his phone and cute grey shoulder bag with an alien stitched on the front, skipping down the stairs. His mother tilted her head to the side with a soft smile.

“You’re wearing your Fairy Kei~?”

“I’m cute and everybody needs to know it. Plus, it’s pastel! It suits my complexion!”

“If you say so, sweetheart.” He knew that tone. She wasn’t really interested, too worried about being late to arrive somewhere. Oikawa rolled his eyes, flipping his hair as he took the Tupperware from her hands and put it in his bag.

“We can walk slowly. Mattsun and Makki are having naughty time.”

“Oh my. Walk slowly it is.” By the time they did arrive, the party was in full swing. All the doors and windows were open, the friends and their families, and family friends all hanging around wherever there was room and talking between each other with joy. 

It was a mingle of Alpha, Omega, and Beta scents, but that didn’t matter with this group of people. Unlike traditionalists, they put a person first and their dynamic second.

“Oikawa! Up here!” His gaze was drawn upwards, where Hanamaki and Watari were leaning out the window, waving at him. There was a reason the trampoline in the front garden was below Hanamaki’s window.

“Coming~!” He broke away from his mother with a kiss on the cheek, making his way up to Hanamaki’s room, only stopping to say hello to random people and find a drink. Red solo cups. Nice. 

The door to the room was fully opened, as were the rules during a large gathering. Matsukawa and Hanamaki were both lying on the bed, but at opposite ends, tangling their legs together in the middle. Kyoutani had claimed the beanbag in the corner, but Yahaba would never just give up his favourite seat. Hence, they looked rather cute with the setter sitting in Kyoutani’s lap. Watari, with incredible balance, was perched cross-legged on the windowsill. Oikawa blinked, looking around the room.

“... No first years?”

“Nah, Kunimi’s got a killer headache from all the new scents. Best not throw him into a large event like this on the first day.”

“And Kindaichi?” Matsukawa’s lips twitched up into a smirk.

“Where else? Right by his side.” Before any of them could start slyly snickering and making jokes about it, a popcorn kernel landed on each of them. Yahaba threw another handful just to make his point.

“Don’t you go teasing them. They’re cute!” Oikawa crossed his legs gracefully as he sunk to the floor, placing himself in the centre of the room. It left the doorway clear, and anything directly in the path of whatever Hanamaki’s sisters could potentially throw at them. 

They were rather... Competitive, and early on in the boy’s friendship, it had turned into the Aobajousai Quartet versus the Hanamaki sisters. The presence of the underclassmen wouldn’t prevent anything. Neither team were against ‘casualties’ in their ongoing war.

“It’s not gonna be as fun without them...” That was when Matsukawa sat up, reaching for Hanamaki’s laptop and turning it on. He didn’t have to stop to ask for the password.

“They’ll be here. Just not... _Here_.”

“... Issei, you fucking genius.” His lips twitched up into a smirk at the praise from Hanamaki.

“Thanks. Oop, they’re online too.” Watari leaned forwards slightly, almost falling off the windowsill as he peered over Matsukawa’s shoulder.

“Oh! Video calling! I see what you mean now!” He spun the laptop around to display Kindaichi’s face way too close to the webcam, tainted with confusion as he fiddled with the webcam.

_“Kunimi, how do you work this thing?”_

_“Is there a blinking green light?”_

_“Umm... One sec... Yeah, on the top.”_

_“Then everyone can currently see up your nostrils.”_ The flustered yell followed by Kindaichi scrambling backwards and Kunimi laughing led the occupants of the party to stop holding back their own guffaws and chuckles. 

Kunimi was sitting cross legged on his bed, a baby blue blanket draped across his shoulders. Having rolled backwards out of the frame, an embarrassed Kindaichi crawled back into view to sit just left of Kunimi’s feet, leaning back against the bed.

“Still got residual chills?” Hanamaki felt a pang of sympathy, having been through the exact same thing to the extremes. He had a roughly four hour Freeze when it happened, with a good hour of residual chills. Matsukawa was lucky, with a 20 minute Freeze, but a lingering three hours of chills. Watari was somewhere in the middle, spanning a three hour Freeze with minimal residual chills. It seemed like Kunimi was a textbook example of a Beta, with a two hour Freeze and roughly hour residual chills.

_“It’s going away now, but the headache is **killing** me.”_

_“He fainted on the way home when we walked past a group of girls.”_

“How many in the group?”

_“Five.”_

“Ooh, tough break. Not as bad as Oikawa. When he went into Rut-”

“Makki, no!” He burst from his spot to clamp a hand over Hanamaki’s mouth, but it seemed like everyone was against him.

“-He didn’t know what was happening-”

“MATTSUN NO.” He now had a hand across Hanamaki’s mouth and a socked foot across Matsukawa’s. He spotted Watari’s cheeky grin a second too late.

“- And ended up wetting himself!” Oikawa dramatically sobbed and dropped to the ground in front of Watari, lying on his stomach with his face buried in his folded arms. Yahaba pat him on the head sympathetically, despite the fact he was laughing along with the others.

“You’re all so mean!”

“We’re just making up for the fact that Iwaizumi isn’t here yet.” Oikawa whined into the carpet before moving to sit up properly.

“He’ll be here soon! I asked him and said please for once.”

“Wow, nice.”

“That’ll work.” Quiet descended on the group, freezing as footsteps came closer to the bedroom. Hanamaki’s face, especially, was frozen in fear.

“... Someone get up and peer down the hallway.” Whispered rejections came his way, apart from the equal confusion from the first years on video chat, and Kyoutani who remained squashed underneath Yahaba. He didn’t seem to be protesting too much.

“Well somebody has to check! If it’s Fumiko, we’re dead. If it’s Yuima, we’re okay. If it’s Aki, we’re gonna be pranked. All three, and we’re _beyond_ dead.”

_“Umm... Who are they, exactly?”_

“Oh, that’s right. You’ve never met my sisters.” Kunimi and Kindaichi froze on screen. Not because sisters were a bad thing, but because there were _Hanamaki’s_ sisters. Matsukawa huffed in amusement at the reaction.

“Yeah, and they started a prank war with us. Unfortunately, they’re much better at it than us, so we’re terrified of them.” Hanamaki visibly shuddered.

“They’re evil... They’re so evil...”

“... I’ll go check.” All eyes turned to Kyoutani, who nudged Yahaba off his lap almost unwillingly. But there was a dangerous gleam of excitement in his eyes, the same as when he challenged Iwaizumi. The team was stunned, but Hanamaki somehow managed to gather enough coherent thought to speak.

“If it’s a redhead, run. A badly-dyed brunette, run. A strawberry blond like me, you’re safe.” Kyoutani gruffly nodded and rose from the beanbag to go and check. Matsukawa, Watari, and Oikawa hummed the funeral march. 

The _millisecond_ he stepped out of the bedroom and looked in the direction of the footsteps, carnage broke loose. An entire gallon of water crashed over him like a wave, drenching him from head to toe. Everything from the ceiling above him to the hallways carpet was completely soaked, and Kyoutani stood in the centre of it.

“It was _all three_.” The hesitant whisper floated back through from the bedroom and he just turned in and walked back over to the beanbag to angrily flump back down. Yahaba didn’t have time to protest before this soggy burnt bacon smell wafted over him, mixed in with the actual water dripping from Kyoutani’s clothes and hair. 

He was lowly growling under his breath, his knuckles white as he clenched both hands together. Pure anger emanated from him in tidal waves reminiscent of what he had just been drenched in. Laughter and giggling filtered into the room from the three sisters, before Hanamaki’s mother was heard shouting up the stairs and the three bolted for safety in the mingling rooms.

“... We’d better _fucking get them back_.” Kyoutani was enraged, and the others in the room nodded in agreement. This was a war that now included all of them, a comrade-in-arms having been unfairly targeted.

“Well, you know what they say. Fight fire with fire.”

“Makki? They used water, not fire.” He grinned deviously, pushing himself up from his laying down position with a plan stirring his the depths of his mind. It promised mischief.

“Exactly.”

“Ohh...” It took a moment of searching to find the materials they needed, weaving in and out of the crowd in true ninja fashion, avoiding the sisters as they collected what they had been instructed to. 

Next, Hanamaki had placed himself as the bait, standing in the centre of the garden. There was a small rose bush by his side, where he had hidden a poncho. The back garden was visible from his parents’ bedroom window, where Oikawa crouched beneath the windowsill and peered over every now and then to check the surroundings. 

Matsukawa was pressed against the wall on the other side of the window, and in his hands, a hose. It stretched along the hallway and into the bathroom. Watari was on flow-duty, as Hanamaki called it. He just had to make sure the hose didn’t coil, or kink, or knot whilst the water was running. 

At the tap, Kyoutani stood, an evil grin across his face. If that wasn’t terrifying enough, his hand twitched as he held it over the handle. Nobody would interrupt them, courtesy of Yahaba standing part way up the stairs and informing guests that they would have to use the downstairs bathroom, the upstairs one has flooded.

“Will Makki be okay?”

“Sacrifices must be made.”

“Oh, you’re nice! That’s your mate out there!”

“... Sacrifices must be made.” Matsukawa’s smirk only held softness. Oikawa could read it like a book, knowing that he would never allow Hanamaki to get caught up in their revenge attack. Seeing as he was in control of the hose, Matsukawa would be able to uphold that promise. 

Oikawa returned to his position, checking for any sign of the three sisters approaching their ‘baby’ brother. A strawberry blonde moved up him, and Oikawa was ready to give the confirmation, before Hanamaki made a signal behind his back.

_‘Not target’._ Yuima was bowing in apology, looking awfully cute and flustered, before she skipped off to the banquet table in the conservatory area. That was when Oikawa spotted trouble. The redhead, Fumiko, and badly-dyed brunette, Aki, were conversing in the corner of the garden with what looked like devious intentions. They were surrounded by other guests, impossible to attack without spraying the adults. That would not be a good plan.

“They’re in the garden, but nowhere near Makki.”

“Give it time. Those two can’t resist gloating over a victory.” Oikawa bit his bottom lip nervously, the apricot lip-gloss smudged in his concern. Suddenly, the two seemed to spot Hanamaki, whom pretended he was texting someone. 

They moved over to him slyly, reminding Oikawa of watching lions stalk their prey on TV. Hanamaki spoke with them, seemingly swapping snarky insults as Aki sipped a champagne flute and Fumiko laughed loudly. Hanamaki reached into the rose bush and pulled out the folded poncho, smirking at the dawning confusion on his sister’s faces.

“Let me show you a magic trick.” He unrolled it and tugged it on, tucking the hood over his face. He held a yen coin in front of his Fumiko’s face, and then flipped it into the air. Their gazes fixed upon it, Hanamaki took the extra second to bolt as far as he could, before a powerful jet stream of water crashed into the siblings. 

With the poncho in place, Hanamaki Takahiro remained dry and merry as his sisters fell to the floor in what was now a puddle of slippery mud, sodden and saturated. It was so much more effective than the single wave that had crashed over Kyoutani, and so much more pleasing to watch. Oikawa recorded the event on his phone to show Iwaizumi later.

“Okay, Mad dog-chan! That’s enough!”

“Have they drowned?”

“Nearly.”

“... Fine.” The water slowed to a stop and the boys quickly clamoured around the window to get a good view of the fallen sisters. Mission complete, they dropped the serious atmosphere and roared with laughter. Hanamaki wrestled off the poncho and legged it up the stairs, joining the others as they congregated in his room once more.

“Mum says we have to stay separated for the remainder of the evening, until the cake-cutting~.” The laptop, left out of harm’s way in case something went wrong and water went everywhere, was still running and they heard Kindaichi humming before anything else. He was doing homework on the table in front of the bed, but silenced when he looked up and saw matching grins all round.

_“I’m guessing it went well then?”_

“It went **extremely** well. Vengeance has been delivered.” The first year on screen laughed quietly, and they all realised the reason for his quietness when a sleepy mumble arose from a lump under the bedcovers. Silently, they decided to speak only in soft tones too, recounting what had just taken place in much quieter voices than should have been appropriate. That was all shattered with one sudden shout.

“IWAIZUMI-SENPAI! UP HERE!” Watari leaned backwards _out the window_ waving rapidly, and the team heard a panicked _“Make sure you don’t-!”_ before the libero disappeared from sight out the window.

“Holy shit!” Yahaba was the first to spring from the beanbag (Kyoutani condemned to a towel by the doorway), and look down. Watari was just shimmying off the trampoline to join Iwaizumi, who didn’t hesitate to smack him a good one round the back of his head and then shake his shoulders before pulling him into a tight hug. 

Watari turned and gave a thumbs up to Yahaba, before leading the way indoors. Iwaizumi ran a shaky hand through his hair, showing he was just as stressed and panicked as Yahaba had been in that second. 

One day, Watari was going to end up giving them a heart attack, no matter how many times he proved he could roll backwards out of Hanamaki’s window safely.

“Iwa-chan!” The Ace made a face as he stepped onto the hallways, the carpet squelching beneath his feet.

“What the fuck happened out here?”

“Do the terms ‘Fumiko’, ‘Aki’, and ‘Yuima’ mean anything to you?” He nodded as if in understanding, dropping a bag into the corner of the room which was filled with personal possessions. 

If any of the group noticed, then they weren’t going to ask. He caught sight of the video chat on the laptop and sent a wave in that general direction, before moving to sit unusually close to Oikawa. His right leg was pressed against Oikawa’s left with pressure like it was intentional. 

Even more strangely, when Oikawa wrapped an arm around his shoulders, he didn’t pull away or push it off. He melted into it. Matsukawa shared a worried glance with Oikawa, before turning to nod at Hanamaki. 

Tonight, once the guests had left, they’d confront the problem head on.

“Boys! Cake time!” The mention of food was enough to distract them from anything overly serious, turning off the laptop with quick goodbyes and then 7 teenagers fought to be the first down the stairs and near the front of the crowd so they could celebrate Fumiko’s victory. 

Opponents in prank war, they may have been, but outside of that, they were all part of the same pack and supportive of each other. Somehow, Iwaizumi had ended at the very front with Hanamaki by his side and a clear view of the cake. Fumiko picked a knife up from the side, posing for pictures with the knife in one hand and a photocopy of her thesis in the other. 

Hanamaki snickered. He leaned down to whisper in Iwaizumi’s ear.

“So you know that thing where there’s a balloon inside the cake?” Wide green eyes whirled around to Hanamaki with a tinge of fear.

“You didn’t.”

“Guess who baked the cake~.” His statement was punctuated by a loud bang and chunks of cake bursting outwards in a delicious explosion.

_“TAKA **HIRO!!!** ”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone else got siblings like Hanamaki?  
> Ever pulled a prank on them?
> 
> Hope y'all enjoyed the update, sorry it took so long but I was doing Inktober. Be sure to check out my Inktober series if you like my stuff!
> 
> Please kudos and comment!!!  
> Thanks for reading!


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